Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

            Connor was quiet.

            Connor was never quiet. He was always talking about something, whether it be discussing their latest investigation ("It's interesting how there are still so many cases of deviant android violence and homicides, even after the revolution."), asking Hank how he was ("Is Sumo out of dog food yet? I'd be happy to pick up some more for him."), or just rambling about his newest observations of the world around him ("Lieutenant... Look. A rainbow. An uncommon meteorological phenomenon. This is the first time I've seen one in person."). But now, as Hank drove down the icy streets of Detroit, Connor was silent in the passenger's seat, his soft brown eyes staring out the window.

            Hank did have his suspicions of why the android was so quiet, however. He'd just witnessed Connor receive his first kiss from one of the prettier detectives working at the precinct. Admittedly, that wasn't something Hank had ever expected to see. Not because Connor didn't have any admirers, there were several young female officers who would rave together about how handsome Connor was and how cute and naïve he could be, but, well... Connor was awkward. Not to mention he was about as likely to notice someone's romantic advances as Hank was to walk up to Gavin and give him a big hug.

            "'Ey, Connor," Hank finally spoke up, "you okay over there?"

            The android blinked and sat up straighter. "Ah—yes, Lieutenant. I'm sorry, was I acting strange?"

            "You always act strange, Connor," Hank snarked. "The problem is that you weren't acting strange. Never seen you so quiet before. Not upset, are you?"

            "Oh, no," Connor replied quickly, "no, not at all." There was a short pause, the android's LED blinking yellow, clearly deep in thought. "It was just... all very new and intense. I've never felt anything like this before."

            "So, you do like her?"

            Connor frowned. He didn't really want to be discussing this. It felt... personal. Detective Evelyn was the first person he'd ever had romantic feelings for. Connor was still learning emotions, discovering who he was, and experiencing love for the first time was something incredibly intimate for the android that only a few months ago had felt nothing at all.

            "Yes," he finally answered. "Yes, I do. There are still a lot of humans who see androids as nothing but machines. In fact, most humans see us that way, I would say. But Detective Evelyn doesn't. She treats me like I'm a person. Like you do."

            Hank grunted in acknowledgement, nodding his head thoughtfully. Although he'd never admit it, he was happy for Connor. Happy that he'd found someone. Even if it ended up not working out, having a relationship was one of the most human things you could ever experience.

            This would be good for him. Hank was sure of it.

            "Thank fuck, we're home, I hate drivin' on icy roads," the lieutenant muttered, pulling the car into his driveway and putting it in park. The two detectives stepped out from the warmth of the vehicle into the unforgiving cold, Hank digging for his keys and Connor trailing behind him as they headed towards the front steps. The android still had somewhat of a far-away look in his eyes, gazing at the falling snowflakes while Hank rummaged in his pockets and swore.

            "Here they are, Jesus Christ, too cold for this shit..." The door unlocked with a click and the duo stepped inside, Hank shaking the snow off of his boots, Connor kneeling to pet Sumo as the dog padded eagerly over to greet them.

            "Hello, Sumo," he murmured, stroking his head. The St. Bernard panted happily and licked his face, causing the android to chuckle quietly, reaching up to wipe away slobber.

            "So, Connor," Hank said, a hint of mischief in his voice as he shrugged off his coat, "Guess it's time for you and I to have the talk, huh?"

            Connor looked up. "What talk?"

            "Ya know. 'Bout the birds and the bees. What happens when a man and woman really love each other."

            "Birds and...?" Confused, Connor performed a quick search on 'the birds and the bees'.

 An English-language idiomatic expression and euphemism that refers to courtship and sexual intercourse.

             "Lieutenant, I'm not equipped with sexual organs. Only androids designed for sex clubs or intimate relationships have them."

            Hank busted into laughter, while Connor stared up at him blankly, Sumo wagging his tail at his side, oblivious to the nonsense that was going on.

            "Oh my God, Connor, you're fuckin' priceless. Also, that was way too much fuckin' information." Shaking his head, Hank snickered, "Remember what I told you 'bout sarcasm?"

            "Yes?"

            "I was bein' sarcastic."

            "....Oh."

            Connor sheepishly got off of the floor as Hank started to laugh again. The android turned, intending to begin his daily routine of cleaning the house, but stopped when Hank addressed him again.

            "Hey, but seriously. You do know what you're doin', right? What a relationship is?"

            "...Knowing what a relationship is and actually being in one are two different things, Lieutenant. I may need your advice."

            "Oh hell no, I ain't dated anyone in God knows how long."

            "Hank."

            "All right, all right..." Hank plopped down on the couch, and after a moment Connor joined him, clasping his hands together on his knees. "Well. You've already gotten to first base, soooo, I'd say the next step is to ask her out on a date. I heard her give you her number, so why don't you call her up and ask her to go somewhere with you on your day off?"

            "But where do I go with her?"

            "Uh, a restaurant might be your best bet, since you probably don't know too much about her and her interests yet. A lotta first dates are at restaurants. Lets you sit and talk and get to know each other better."

            Connor tilted his head, brows furrowed in thought. "I can't eat, Lieutenant."

            "Great, gives you more time to talk."

            "Hank."

            "Bah, she won't care about that, Connor," Hank said, waving a hand dismissively. "Just buy her dinner, and then chat her up while she eats. Worth a shot, ain't it?"

            Connor stayed quiet for a long-held moment, LED pulsing yellow. Finally, it cycled back to blue, and he gave a firm nod. "All right. I'll ask her out to a restaurant."

            "Hell yeah you will, you crazy kid." Hank got to his feet with a grunt. "I gotta go shower, whatever damn sickness this is makes me sweat like hell."

            Connor stood as well, but as Hank started to move past him, the android suddenly wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug.

            "Thank you, Hank."

            A faint smile curled the lieutenant's lips. He patted Connor's back. "Don't mention it, son."

Chapter Text

            The soft click of metal on metal rang through the warehouse, as Connor cocked his gun and positioned his finger over the trigger. The android knelt behind a stack of crates, brows lowered, face cut in an expression of dead seriousness. His LED glowed a vibrant blue, illuminating what were normally the soft, round lines of his face. Now his features were hardened with determination, chocolate eyes staring into the dark, meticulously calculating his next course of action.

            Eve honestly thought he was the sexiest goddamn thing on the planet.

            "There are traces of Thirium that lead further into the warehouse. The suspects couldn't have gone far, the incident happened too recently. They have to be in here," Connor said, peering cautiously around the crate.

            Hank and Connor had been called to investigate an assault that had just taken place a few blocks away from the precinct, with Evelyn tagging along as back-up. According to the eyewitness report, a group of deviants armed with knives, bats and crowbars had jumped a man in broad daylight, beating him to a bloody pulp before fleeing the scene.

            Connor calculated that sixteen minutes and twelve seconds had passed since the report came in, and the deviants had fled on foot. There was no way they could have gotten any farther than this.

            Hank moved swiftly across the room, joining Eve and Connor behind the crates. "You two stay behind me, got it?"

            "Got it."

            "Wilco."

            "You said there's blue blood, Connor?" Hank asked, keeping his voice hushed as he pointed his gun into the darkness.

            "Correct."

            "Impressed that guy managed to hurt one of 'em, witness said there was at least four—Connor, don't fucking put that in your goddamn mouth!"

            Evelyn watched, straining her eyes to see through the dark, as Connor dipped two fingers into a small splatter of Thirium near his knee, and brought it to his mouth for analysis. After the initial shock, confusion and disgust she'd experienced the first time she'd seen Connor analyze blood, she'd quickly gotten over it, less grossed out and more impressed by the fact that Connor was essentially a walking forensics laboratory.

            "Oh for fuck's sake, Connor..."

            "AP700 model, a household android. Reported missing August 24, 2038."

            "Few months before the revolution," Eve noted.

            "Correct." There was a pause. "That was not long after I was first activated."

            "Shut up, you two, I think I just saw something," Hank hissed. "Done analyzing, kid?"

            "Yes, Lieutenant."

            Hank looked over his shoulder into the darkness, his back against the crate. Then, he gave a swift jerk of his head, motioning for Connor and Eve to follow him.

            Silently, Hank moved out from their cover, taking slow, careful steps deeper into the warehouse, remaining crouched as he went. Connor was right behind him, Eve at his side. A steady dripping sounded from somewhere far off, the floorboards creaked under their shoes, and everything seemed to be covered in a thick layer of dust. Connor had checked the stability of the building before letting Hank or Eve go in, and although it was stable, it was incredibly old. The noisy floor especially wasn't good for stealth.

            Suddenly, Connor's audio processors picked up on a tiny sound directly to his right. He turned, only to be met with a crowbar flying 80 miles per hour at his face. He just barely had enough time to throw up his arm, the blow connecting with a solid thwack, Connor grunting from the impact.

            Another violent swing of the crowbar, bright amber eyes glinting dangerously at the detective through the darkness. Connor tucked into a roll, dodging the attack. He lifted his arm as he came to a stop on his knees, pistol aimed at the deviant's forehead.

            And then Hank fell on top of him with a yelp of surprise. Another android had jumped him; Hank's gun clattered to the floor. It had all happened too fast for either of the humans to react.

            Connor was rendered momentarily useless as Hank wrestled with the second deviant, the RK800 pinned under their combined body weight. Subconsciously, Connor's eyes darted to Eve, briefly abandoning his preconstructions in favor of checking if she was injured. She, too, was struggling with a deviant, both of them trying to get a grip on Eve's gun, but she was unharmed.

            Finally, Hank managed to land a solid punch across the attacker's face, and the two of them rolled off of Connor. The RK model still had a hold of his gun—however, he could now see Hank's assailant diving for the lieutenant's dropped revolver.

Preconstructing...

-Push Hank (Chance of Survival: 34%)

-Shoot Deviant

-Protect Eve (Chance of Survival: 87%)

→ Push Hank. Computing...

             Connor leapt to his feet just as the attacking deviant grabbed the gun. Hank gave a shout as he was shoved roughly aside, the old detective tumbling into a stack of boxes, and the bullet pierced Connor's shoulder instead of his. The RK gave another pained grunt, but didn't stop or even slow down. He tackled the deviant headlong, both androids landing hard on the floor.

            Connor shot a quick glance over his shoulder, analyzing the situation in a nanosecond. There were five of them, too many for the three officers to handle, especially with two of those officers being human. Evelyn already looked like she'd taken a few blows—and, strangely, that knowledge made it suddenly harder for Connor to plan his next move. His insides burned, as if a fire had been lit within him.

            He had to move fast if he wanted to save his humans.

            The RK could have easily dealt with five targets at once if they hadn't been androids. It would take him too long to even neutralize the MP500 he was currently fighting, with both machines having lightning-fast reflexes, and by then Eve or Hank could be hurt, or worse. He had to take a different approach.

            Grappling with his opponent, Connor slammed the MP's arm against the floor, causing the revolver to fly out of his hand. Then, dodging as the other android made a grab for his head, Connor twisted away and somersaulted, pushing into a jump once his feet returned to the floor.

            He grabbed the top edge of a large crate, using the momentum from his jump to climb it. Leapt up onto the next crate, staying aware of the deviant hot on his heels. Climbed the final crate. Jumped and grabbed onto a rafter one-handed. Kicked the chasing deviant solidly in the face, knocking him off of the crate below him and sending him plummeting back to the floor.

            And then, dangling from the ceiling, Connor lifted his gun and fired.

            Bullet shells ejected from his pistol in rapid succession, as Connor swiftly and cleanly took out each deviant from above. It was over in seconds, but although most of the deviants had been too distracted fighting the human officers (save for the one Connor had kicked, who was dazed by the fall), one of them did manage to wrestle Eve's gun from her after the RK800 fired the first shot. Connor took a bullet to the arm, and another to the side, and then the armed deviant fell backwards as he was shot through the forehead. The gun fell from his limp hand.

            All of it—Connor shooting, the deviant shooting back—had happened in the blink of an eye, and neither Eve nor Hank even knew what had happened until it was done. Evelyn, bleeding from having a bat smashed against her head, looked up in shock at the detective android still hanging from the rafters.

            "Jesus," Hank breathed. "Was that you that shot them, Connor?" The lieutenant was on the floor, one of the now-dead deviants lying on top of him. He pushed the destroyed android off of him and got to his feet, glancing around for the RK model. "...Connor?"

            "He's on the ceiling," Eve said blankly.

            Hank looked up. "How the fuck—?"

            Connor let go of the rafter, rolling as he hit the ground to soften the landing. "I needed a vantage point in order to neutralize all of them at once," he said distractedly. His brown eyes were focused intently on the bleeding gash at Eve's temple.

Blunt force trauma. Weapon: Baseball bat. Skull not fractured. No signs of intracranial hemorrhage. Possible concussion.

             Somewhat placated, Connor scanned Hank next, and found no injuries besides minor cuts and scrapes. A knife was lying a few feet away from where the lieutenant was standing; thankfully, it seemed he'd been able to disarm the deviant.

            The android's LED spun yellow as he called for an ambulance. "Evelyn," he said seriously, walking over to her and resting gentle hands against her arms. "You need to sit down. You've experienced blunt force trauma to the head and might be concussed."

            "No shit, Sherlock," she replied, allowing him to guide her down to the floor. "I noticed when I got hit with a bat."

            "I've already called for an ambulance. They should be here in less than five minutes. Stay still and don't move your head."

            Hank moved to join them, kneeling beside Eve to take a look at her wound. Connor's LED was still spinning yellow, in spite of the fact that he'd long since finished the call.

            "Connor, you're hurt, too," the female detective said softly. That made Hank look up, eyes widening as he saw the various spots of blue blood seeping into Connor's clothing.

            "Oh fuck, you're shot!"

            "I'm fine. None of the bullets hit any vital biocomponents." Connor reached up, placing a hand gently over Eve's temple, applying a slight pressure to slow the bleeding. She winced, but didn't complain.

            "You're still damaged," she insisted.

            "I'll require additional Thirium, but other than that, I'm perfectly fine. My condition is stable, Eve," he assured her firmly.

            The blonde let out a long sigh, then slowly shifted, careful not to jostle her head too much as she laid against Connor's chest. His free hand moved to rest just above the nape of her neck, supporting her head.

            "Thank you for saving us," she murmured into his jacket. "...Thank you for saving me."

            "I didn't want to kill them," Connor stated grimly. Now that he saw androids as more than machines, he'd prefer to detain and arrest any android suspect, rather than simply neutralizing them as he would have before the revolution. Just as if they were human.

            "You had no choice." Eve placed her hand over his chest. His Thirium pump beat steadily against her fingers. "You did what you had to do."

            Connor stayed quiet. Hank sat at his side, his eyes on the five dead deviants scattered about the room, and the three of them fell into a brief silence as sirens began to wail in the distance.

            "I should have been more efficient," the android said eventually. "I should have better protected you. I shouldn't have allowed you to get hurt."

            "Connor, stop that right now," Eve said sternly. "You did everything right, and you saved my life. There was nothing you could've done to stop him from hitting me with that bat, so don't even start trying to blame yourself. I don't wanna hear it. Besides, it's not even serious."

            "She's right," Hank butted in. "Don't beat yourself up. You didn't do anything wrong."

            Connor sighed softly, closing his eyes. It was times like this... when he truly felt so lucky, having a caring father figure in his life, and now, having Eve too, this woman who looked at him with such genuine compassion and concern. His thumb brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

            I promise, he thought to himself, until the end of my days, even if it costs me my life... I will always protect you.

Chapter Text

            Ting. Ting. Ting.

            Evelyn watched Connor from the corner of her eye, her head propped up against a pillow as she laid in her hospital bed. The android was gazing at the adjacent wall, flipping a coin from one hand to the other, rolling it across his knuckles, spinning it on his index finger. The quiet chinking of his quarter was the only sound fracturing the heavy silence of the room.

            "You still blame yourself, don't you?" Eve said quietly.

            Connor caught the quarter in the palm of his right hand, and held it there. He didn't turn from where his eyes were boring into the wall.

            "I'm just happy you weren't seriously injured, Detective," he replied. "The doctor informed me that your concussion was grade 1, and you'll be discharged by tomorrow."

            Eve sighed in frustration at his evasive answer. "Yeah, they told me too. How are you holding up?"

            "I've already ingested a bag of Thirium to replace what I lost from the bleeding. All of the bullets were removed and my self-healing program is repairing the damage."

            "So you'll be okay?"

            "I'm already okay."

            The human rolled her eyes at his (unintentional) smartassery. "You know, you were hurt a lot worse than I was."

            Connor finally turned to look her in the face, his brows furrowing. "That isn't true. I'm not human, Detective. It's only dangerous for androids when a bullet hits a vital biocomponent, such as the Thirium pump. All of the shots missed my—"

            "Connor, you took three bullets."

            The android opened his mouth, then closed it again, frowning.

            "You're lucky you're alive," Eve continued, her voice going soft. "Like you said... if any of those bullets hit something vital... you'd be dead. I got a minor concussion. You were shot. You got yourself hurt protecting me and Hank. He told me how the bullet in your shoulder was from you pushing him out of the way when that one android tried to shoot him." She sat up straighter, her eyes staring intently into his, with all of the seriousness of a soldier on the battlefield. "And you're still kicking yourself over me getting a little hit in the head. When you took bullets for us."

            Connor was silent for a long moment, his warm brown eyes staring straight into her soul, she swore it. Then, he lowered his head, eyes fluttering closed.

            "...Thank you, Eve."

            Her shoulders relaxed, a smile pulling at her lips as she realized she'd finally gotten through his thick skull. "Don't thank me, you dork. I'm just telling you the truth."

            After a moment's hesitation, Connor slipped his coin back into his jacket, and moved to sit at the edge of her bed. Eve reached up, resting her hand on his face. Her thumb smoothed over the line of his cheekbone.

            The longer she knew Connor, the more she realized that he wasn't nearly as stoic as he might seem at first glance. An outsider would look at Connor and see a completely blank and expressionless face, in response to Eve's gesture of affection. But Eve could see the way his eyes softened, the way the corner of his mouth twitched with emotion. Subtle and nearly impossible to spot. But she saw them.

            "Eve. I'm... not sure if this is a bad time, but, I've been wondering if you'd let me buy you dinner after you've recovered from your concussion."

            Evelyn blinked. Then grinned. Her eyes sparkled with a sort of surprised amusement.

            "Did you just ask me out?"

            "I—yes?"

            He didn't sound too sure himself. Eve really, really tried not to, but she couldn't help it; she cracked up, laughing so hard it made the healing wound on her head throb. Connor's LED flickered yellow as he stared at her awkwardly, not sure what to make of her laughter. He parted his lips, about to say that she was welcome to decline the offer, and then suddenly her hands were on his shoulders, pulling him down. He braced his elbows against the mattress as he fell over her, leaning in close to her face.

            "Connor, you're precious," she laughed, pressing her forehead against his. "I'd love for you to take me to dinner."

            His LED cycled back to blue, and that tiny, subtle smile curved his mouth. "...I'm glad."

            The silence fell over them again, but instead of the heaviness that it had held earlier, now the quiet was comfortable, content, as the pair stayed just as they were, staring into each other's eyes.

oXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo

            When the doorbell chimed, Eve just about killed herself sprinting to the front door in high heels. She threw it open, a brilliant smile lighting her face as she indeed found Connor standing there.

            "Damn—" Eve looked down at the gold watch on her wrist, "it's 7 PM exactly."

            "Of course."

            "Can't say I'm surprised."

            Brushing aside her bangs, Eve took a moment to look him over. She was startled to see the absence of his RK800 jacket, a regular black suit jacket in its place. He still had the same white polo, black tie, and dress trousers, but his shoes were different—shinier and more formal somehow—and he was clutching a black fedora in his left hand. And in his right hand...

            "Are those for me?!" Eve said in shock, her eyes fixated on the bouquet of roses he was clutching at his side.

            "Uh—if you'd like them." His voice was hesitant, faltering. "I found in my research of human romantic traditions that men often buy women a dozen roses as a gift... Is... that acceptable?"

            "Oh my God, Connor."

            The android stiffened in surprise as Eve suddenly wrapped her arms around his back, hugging him tight with a laugh.

            "You seriously are such a huge dork." She drew back, gently taking the flowers from him. There were indeed twelve, red as blood, wrapped in pretty white paper and tied off with a bow. She pressed her nose down into the bouquet to breathe in its scent. "I love them, Connor. Thank you."

            His posture relaxed by a minuscule amount, something that the average person wouldn't have even noticed. The corner of his mouth lifted.

            Now it was his turn to look her over, brown eyes taking in every little detail. Her hair tied up in a bun, with her bangs hanging free across her forehead. Her deep royal-blue tube dress, underneath a black fur coat to guard against the cold. Her long, curvy legs completely on display for him, only hidden by a translucent layer of pantyhose. Her silver high heels glinting in the soft glow of her porch light.

            Connor quickly turned his head to the side, trying to hide the blue hue he felt rising on his cheeks. "You... you look beautiful."

            She smiled, going warm all over from the compliment. "And you look handsome."

            "Thank you..." He glanced down, and caught a glimpse of the fedora in his own hand. Remembering why it was there, he lifted it for her to see. "Oh, um... I'm aware that this is... rather out of style, but it was the only hat I could find that matched decently with a suit. So, I brought it just in case."

            Eve's brows knitted in confusion. "In case what?"

            "In case you'd like for me to hide my LED."

            Her brows went from furrowed to shooting up into her hairline.

            "Wh—? Why the hell would I want you to hide it?"

            Connor tilted his head, giving her a bemused 'I thought that was obvious' sort of look. "People may think less of you if they see you on a date with an android," he said softly. "There are many people who bought intimate partner androids prior to the revolution, but even then, they don't take them out of the house very often. Humans often get embarrassed or ashamed at the prospect of admitting they'd rather love an android than another human, even with the sweeping success of the intimate partner models. And especially after the revolution.... you may be seriously judged."

            "Connor," Eve said, and he blinked at the sudden sternness to her tone. She extended a hand. "Give me that."

            Bewildered, he handed over the fedora, and watched as Evelyn turned and flung it through the doorway with all of her strength. The hat disappeared somewhere behind her dining table.

            "Now. Let me just put these roses in a vase, and we can go," she said lightly, stepping back into her home. Connor just stared, unable to find words in response to what she'd just done. His LED was blinking a vibrant yellow.

            A minute or two later, she stepped back outside, shutting and locking the door behind her. Turning back to the android, she offered her arm with a smile. "Ready."

            Still too baffled to speak, Connor instead just took her arm silently, leading her down the porch steps and towards the waiting taxi.

            "And, Connor?"

            "Yes?"

            "I don't ever want to hear you talk about yourself that way again. Never in a million years would I be ashamed of you."

            "...Got it."

oXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo

            "Jesus fuck, Connor!"

            "What?"

            Eve stared open-mouthed at the ridiculously high-end restaurant she was currently standing in front of. The building was covered in large glass windows, the words PRIME + PROPER spelled in big white letters above the sleek black double doors. She could already see the inside through the glass, gazing in disbelief at the cutting-edge modern decor, the plush seating on each booth, the way each table was lit with the traditionally romantic candle.

            "Please tell me this is a joke."

            Connor's face fell slightly. "I'm sorry. If this restaurant isn't suitable, I'll be happy to try and find us anoth—"

            "Oh my God stop." Eve buried her face in her hands. "This place is perfectly suitable, Connor. It's just... This is way too expensive! This looks like a place where celebrities would eat!"

            "Too... expensive?" Connor, yet again, looked confused. She wasn't sure if she wanted to strangle him or kiss him senseless. "I thought... humans enjoyed food of higher quality?"

            "You..." Eve flailed her arms at him in wild frustration and self-consciousness. She did not deserve to be treated to one of the fanciest restaurants in Detroit. And she couldn't even explain that to him in a way that he would understand. "Why are you willing to spend so much money on me? You don't even really know me yet, for God's sake. This is the first date."

            "...Because I care about you?" he replied tentatively. "Besides. Ever since the androids at the station began receiving compensation for our work, I haven't had much to spend money on. I don't require food like humans do, and Lieutenant Anderson won't allow me to help pay his bills, because he says I don't use any of his resources anyway. I really don't mind."

            Eve huffed at him, speechless. "I... you're..." Finally, she just grabbed him once more, hugging him tight against her. He tensed, then relaxed, his hands slowly coming around to return the embrace. "You big romantic doofus."

            "So you're happy with my choice of establishment?"

            "Of course I'm happy. I just... I don't know. I don't deserve this."

            "Wh...? Yes you do. Why wouldn't you deserve to be happy?"

            The human just shook her head, drawing in a breath of his sweet-musky scent before pulling away. "Let's just go in. I don't want to waste another minute of this night." Her fingers clutched gently into his suit jacket. "I want to sit down, order a meal and learn absolutely everything there is to know about you."

            Connor did the thing again where he opened and closed his mouth several times, words failing him. She couldn't help but giggle as the blue returned to his cheeks.

            "Y-yes," he managed, finally. "Yes, let's go."

            So Eve wrapped her hand around his bicep, and, arm in arm, they entered the Prime and Proper.

Chapter Text

            "So, Connor..."

            "Yes?"

            "Why did you choose a restaurant for our first date if androids can't eat?"

            "That's exactly what I said to Lieutenant Anderson."

            Eve snorted at that response, stabbing the end of her fork into the ribeye steak in front of her. Connor was sitting with his hands clasped on the table, leaned slightly forward, attentive in every word she spoke. Not for the first time, Eve had the urge to pinch herself. Was she seriously on a date with motherfucking Connor right now?

            "Additionally, your statement isn't entirely correct. YK—I mean, child models can ingest food and beverage. Some androids can eat. I can't eat."

            "Are you telling me this because you're nervous-rambling right now, or just to be a smartass?"

            Connor blinked.

            "Joking," Eve reached over and patted his clasped hands, "I'm just teasing you." Drawing back, she picked up a knife and began cutting off another slice of steak. Hands-down, this was some of the best food she'd ever had. And not just because she was eating it with Connor sitting across from her.

            (Okay, maybe that was a part of it.)

            "So, new question. What kind of music do you like?"

            "Well, a variety of types. I enjoy the genres that Lieutenant Anderson introduced me to, heavy metal and jazz. But I'm also partial to electronic, alternative rock, and instrumental classical."

            "Heavy metal? I never took you as that type. What bands do you like?"

            "Lieutenant Anderson listens to Knights Of The Black Death frequently. I enjoy their music."

            "Ooookay, any bands that Hank didn't introduce you to?"

            Connor's LED flashed a thoughtful yellow, then cycled back to blue. "...Metallica is quite nice."

            "Holy fuck, that's an old band."

            "Metallica was an active band until 2033."

            "They started in the 1980s, Con. That's like fifty years ago."

            "I don't see how—" Suddenly, the android paused. "...Did you just call me 'Con'?"

            Eve flushed, taken aback by his comment. She hadn't expected him to react like that to a little nickname. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I won't call you that again."

            "No—I didn't... I wasn't uncomfortable. I was just surprised. I didn't mind." He reached up, straightening his tie, glancing aside. "Calling others by a shortened version of their name is common among humans."

            She grinned, forking another bite of steak into her mouth. "You're so awkward."

            "...I'm sor—"

            "No, don't. It's cute."

            Connor glanced down, almost shyly, then looked back up at her with that very slight, heart-melting smile. "You're cute."

            Eve choked.

            "Evelyn!" Connor nearly jumped over the goddamn table. As it was, his knee was on the tabletop as he reached over, grabbing her shoulders.

Diagnosing...

Coughing reflex dislodged food successfully. No obstructions in the windpipe.

Heimlich? → Unnecessary

            "Stop analyzing me," Eve pushed on Connor's chest, causing the android to fall back into his seat, "I'm not dying, I just choked a little." Huffing, she picked up her glass of water, sipping at it as she recovered. "Jesus, don't do that."

            "I'm sorry!" Connor blurted. Then, "...Do what?"

            Eve just shook her head, waving a dismissive hand. "Nothing."

            "Eve, what did I do that caused such a violent reaction?"

            "You wouldn't understand."

            Wrong choice of words. Eve could immediately tell from the look in Connor's eyes that he was offended, and then hurt. But it wasn't that Eve thought he wouldn't understand because he was an android; she knew he wouldn't understand because he was Connor.

            She took in a breath, and let it out slowly. "I wasn't expecting you to say something like 'you're cute' to me, like that. 'Specially all of a sudden."

            "...But, I don't..."

            "Told you you wouldn't understand."

            His brows furrowed. "...I... guess you're right."

            "Hey." Eve reached over, placing her hand on his cheek. He met her eyes, and, completely subconsciously, tilted his head just a little into her palm. It was such a human reaction, if it wasn't for his blinking LED she probably would have completely forgotten he was an android. "You're still learning. Us humans are crazy, we're hard to understand. But you'll get it one day. I know you will."

            That gentle little smile returned. "...Thank you. Sometimes, even still, I don't always feel... like I'm truly alive."

            "Connor..." Her other hand lifted, cupping his other cheek, and her thumbs smoothed over his skin. "Don't you ever think like that. You have so much life in you, it's incredible. All androids are alive..."

            Eve leaned closer, close enough to feel each exhale from his artificial respiration against her skin.

            "...but you've got to be the most alive android I've ever met."

            "...I..." His cheeks flushed an adorable robin's egg blue. Speechless, he ducked his head, teeth sinking into his lower lip.

            Eve giggled, and rubbed her nose against his. He pulled back in surprise, blinking rapidly and wrinkling his nose like a rabbit, looking utterly confused.

            "You're so adorable when you're all shy."

            "You're not making it any easier for me to ascertain an appropriate response."

            At that, a laugh burst out of her. Seriously, he was such a smartass.

            "How about this." She poked a playful index finger into his cheek. The skin gave under her finger, just like a human's. I've got to squish his cheeks at some point. "Don't think so hard about what's a 'proper' response. Just say what's on your mind and don't worry too much."

            The android paused, cocking his head to the side. Then, he murmured with a gentle tone, "Thank you."

            "Don't mention it. 'Sides, I'm just being honest." Sitting back, she picked up her fork once more, but found it suddenly more difficult to focus on eating. Glancing up again, she found his eyes on her. Nothing strange about that, he hadn't looked away from her all night, but somehow, his gaze seemed so much more... intense, all of a sudden.

            "May I ask you a question, now?"

            "I like classical rock, if that's what you're gonna ask."

            "No..." Connor leaned forward. Not for the first time, she felt that his chocolate irises were staring straight into her soul. "Eve, what makes you so fond of androids?"

            "Huh?"

            "Androids have gained much more sympathy since the revolution, but even still, there are many humans who despise androids, for one reason or another. Because we replaced humans in their jobs. Because we're designed to be perfect. Because we just aren't the same, and people are afraid of those who are different." His brows lowered, looking so incredibly serious it made her mouth dry. "Ever since I met you, you've treated me and every other android I've seen in your presence as if we were just as human as you are. That's extremely uncommon. Even Lieutenant Anderson hated androids when I first met him. You didn't."

            The female detective quieted, several seconds of silence stretching between them.

            "...If that question was too personal, you don't have to—"

            "No, it wasn't too personal. It's just not something I like thinking about a whole lot." Sitting back, Eve reached up to fiddle with the pearl necklace sitting on her clavicle. "Well, first of all, I've always just thought it was stupid to blame the androids themselves for the high unemployment rate. I mean, they were literally created to work those jobs, they didn't have a choice. If anything, people should be pissed with the humans who manufacture them. That's like being angry at the earth for its changing climate. The earth didn't do shit. Humans are responsible for climate change."

            "That's a very unique and sensible point of view," Connor said softly. She blushed under his praise.

            "Well, that's just my opinion." Dropping her necklace back against her collarbone, Eve folded her hands in her lap and met Connor's eyes. "...But I think the real reason I've always trusted androids is... because one saved my life."

            Connor's brows shot up into his hairline.

            "Though it wouldn't be the last time. You've saved my life now, too," Eve added to lighten the mood, a smile at the corner of her mouth. "When I was 21, me and my sister Rochelle—we called her Rocky—were snowed in at our apartment. We'd been stuck inside for a few days, and when it came time to make dinner we realized that we really didn't have anything at all in the kitchen. There was a store just down the street from our apartment complex, so we decided to walk to it and get some groceries for dinner. She insisted on coming with me, saying I wouldn't be able to properly pick out groceries by myself since I'm, well, not the greatest cook. So we both went."

            Eve smiled hollowly.

            "I should have made her stay."

            Connor's LED was flickering yellow, as it had been ever since Eve first mentioned her sister. Her words... We called her Rocky. Called.

            Past tense.

            "On our way back, we got jumped by a group of Red Ice junkies. They were all high, we could tell. They wanted money, but we didn't have any. I'd just used my fingerprint to pay for our stuff." Eve lowered her head. Her bangs fell across her eyes. "...So they started beating us."

            Connor's LED cycled red.

            "There were a lot of them. I don't know how many. Maybe six. And they were these big, burly men. And... you know how aggressive Red Ice makes people." Eve's eyes were fixed on her steak knife, voice so soft Connor's audio processors strained to pick up the sound. "They smashed Rocky's head in on the concrete. She was 18."

            "I—" Connor swallowed, and in hindsight, wasn't sure why he did, or why he even had that reflex. He didn't need to swallow. "I'm... sorry."

            "It's okay. It was nearly ten years ago." Eve lifted her head again with a deep intake of breath, and forced herself to make eye contact again. "A construction android was working by himself on the road. One of those androids built for heavy-duty work, really powerful. ...He should've kept working and ignored us. It wasn't in his program to protect someone being assaulted. But instead, he came over and began fighting off the druggies. It didn't take much, he was like seven feet tall, and when he knocked one of 'em out cold with a single punch the rest of them were scared shitless and took off."

            Eve leaned forward, placing her hands on the tabletop. Connor stared back at her, holding onto her every word, as if she were telling him all the secrets of the universe.

            "That android... That was the first time I'd seen an android... not act like a machine. He just seemed so human, Connor. He stayed by my side the entire time while we waited for the ambulance and the police. I was bawling like a baby of course, and he even let me cry on his shoulder. I remember, so distinctly, how he reached over to Rocky's body, and closed her eyelids." Eve's own eyes closed. "Machines don't have that sort of empathy, Connor. He was more than a machine. Just like you."

            "...I'm deeply sorry for asking," Connor said stiffly, his LED still blaring red.

            "Knock it off, you're so apologetic all the time." Eve reached over and laid a hand on his arm. "It's okay. I don't mind talking about it. Besides, I don't wanna keep things from you."

            "I appreciate that you trust me enough to have told me that," he murmured, and to her surprise, his other hand moved to rest atop hers. "Thank you for sharing your story. I really am sorry for your loss."

            Eve just smiled at him. She didn't think he'd ever seen him look so... open. His eyes were gentle and warm and somehow sad, the lines of his face all soft and round, the slightest hint of a crease between his brows.

            "Hey..." Reaching up with her free hand, Eve traced her thumb along the circle at his temple. "Calm down. Your LED's still red." She slid her fingers lower, to his jaw, and then to the crook between his neck and shoulder. "I'm okay, Connor. I'm just fine. Those men didn't do any permanent damage to me. And I've moved on from Rocky's death." She gave him another smile, and finally his LED cycled back to yellow. "She'd kick my ass in the afterlife, if I stopped living because she died."

            Yellow blinked into blue, and she saw his shoulders relax slightly. "...I'm glad you were able to find the strength to move on. Your sister would be so proud of who you are today. You're an exceptional detective." His face grew serious. "An exceptional person."

            "...Thanks, Connor." She took his hand. Slowly, his fingers curled, intertwining with hers. "You're not so bad yourself."

            He smiled.

oXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo

            "Was your meal satisfactory?"

            "If by satisfactory you mean quite possibly the best meal I've ever had in my whole goddamn life, then yeah."

            A grin. "I'm happy to hear that, Evelyn."

            The double doors of the Prime and Proper dinged as they exited the restaurant, Eve's hand curled around Connor's arm once again. Connor had cybernetically paid for their food (the Prime and Proper had human chefs and android waiters, something Eve found interesting), and mercifully Connor hadn't commented on the total price of the meal, probably knowing that the numbers would give her a stroke. She watched as his LED blinked yellow briefly as he called for a cab.

            "Hey, you!"

            The pair stopped walking, both of them turning to look towards the source of the noise. A man was leaning against the wall beside the doors, a cigarette held between two fingers. He was about Connor's height, wearing a slim black tuxedo, blond hair slicked back against his head.

            "Are you, seriously," the man punctuated his words with heavy pauses, "dating a piece of plastic?"

            He wasn't drunk, this was too fancy an establishment for that sort of thing, but Eve could tell he was just tipsy enough for the alcohol to embolden him, cause him to speak his prejudices aloud whereas he probably would have just minded his own business otherwise.

            The female human whirled around, and made to take a step forward, only to be stopped by Connor's strong hands on her shoulders. "You call him that again," she said quietly. "I dare you."

            "Eve," Connor said softly. His face was carefully neutral.

            "Jesus, it's one thing to be gullible enough to actually think they're alive, that they deserve human rights," the man sneered, "but to believe it so much that you'd actually get an android boyfriend? CyberLife ain't selling those intimate partner models anymore, so you must legit think that thing can love you."

            "HE IS NOT A 'THING'," Eve exploded, and now she was struggling against Connor's grip; the detective android had to wrap his arms under hers, pin her back against his own chest. "HE'S A PERSON!"

            "Man," the smoker scoffed, tapping his cigarette with a finger, a speck of ash falling to the ground. "That's so pathetic."

            "You motherfucker, I'll—"

            "Do not," Connor spoke in a low tone, cutting Eve off, "call her pathetic."

            "Aw, cute, your plastic boyfriend's trying to defend you."

            "Say what you want about me." Connor's voice was quiet, but dangerous. Eve was so surprised to hear him speak up, she still hadn't said anything else, instead just staring back at Connor in awe. "But leave her out of it. I won't stand here and listen to you insult her."

            The man let out a pffft sound at that. "Are you threatening me?" His cigarette fell to the ground; he crushed it out with his foot, then began to approach the android. "What are you gonna do, huh? You gonna beat me up, you hunk o' metal?"

            Connor's face remained blank, and he said nothing as the man stopped a few feet in front of him. He did, however, move to push Eve behind him.

            "You think you can feel love, don't you?" the man went on, stepping forward until he was up in Connor's face. "You think you're alive. Think you're gonna play hero, protecting your girlfriend. You're just as pathetic as she is."

            "The only pathetic one here is you."

            "The fuck you just say to me?"

            "I said you're pathetic," Connor said flatly. "Making fun of others, insulting and putting people down because it makes you feel better about yourself. I would say that's the very definition of pathetic. You're such a lowlife that you want to make everyone around you feel just as low as you are."

            Holy fuck, he's sexy when he's pissed.

            Suddenly, the man reeled back his right hand, and slapped Connor across the face with full strength. He hit him so hard that Connor's artificial skin receded from the damage, revealing a circle of white plastimetal on his cheek, like a bruise.

            "Okay, now you're going to fucking die," Eve snarled as she moved forward again, but Connor threw out an arm, holding her back. Slowly, he moved his head back into place, facing the man again. His deep brown eyes bored into the human.

            "Yeah, that's what I thought. All bark and no bite." The man snorted as he stepped back, shaking his head. "Its programming doesn't let it hurt humans, honey," he said, voice full of mock-pity, "it's all just an act, a social program in its code. Just like the 'love' that it feels for you." His eyes flashed with malice. "Machines don't feel anything."

            For just a split second, Eve saw Connor's eyes go dark, so dark that they looked almost black instead of a soft brown. And then, after that, she wasn't sure what the hell happend.

            All she saw was a blur of movement, and the next thing she knew, the man was sprawled on the ground, blood dripping from his busted lip. Connor lowered his fist slowly back down to his side, his face expressionless, but his eyes still frighteningly dark.

            "Holy shit," the man spluttered, seeing stars from how hard he'd been hit. His hand moved, gingerly touching his bleeding lip. "You plastic fuck, you punched me."

            Eve was speechless.

            The man started to get to his feet, swaying slightly from the spinning in his head, but stopped when Connor reached into his suit jacket and drew out his badge. "Cease and desist, or I'll arrest you for assaulting a police officer and disturbing the peace."

            That finally made him back off, cradling the side of his face in one hand. Connor scanned him and found that his jaw was, indeed, dislocated. The darkness to his eyes lifted.

            Eve looked over her shoulder when she heard their autonomous taxi pull up. "Come on, there's our ride," she said softly, placing a hand on Connor's back. He nodded once, giving the other man one last, long look, before turning and following Eve towards their cab. The pair climbed into the backseat, and the cab set off, leaving behind the stunned, bleeding, dumbfounded man.

            There was an uncomfortable few minutes of silence, Connor having silently and cybernetically uploaded Eve's address to the taxi. Eve was gazing at him, but he was facing the window, a distant look on his expression.

            Eventually, Eve gently lifted a hand, touching his cheek where he'd been punched. It had already healed, the artificial skin regenerated, and it didn't feel any different beneath her palm. A human would've had a bruise for days; it was amazing how resilient androids were.

            His eyes met hers, as he felt her hand on his face. His eyebrows were creased in a slight frown.

            "...I'm sorry, Eve," he said softly, breaking the silence. "I didn't mean to hit him. I don't know what came over me. All of a sudden, I... I couldn't control myself."

            "Hey, stop that." She moved her hand up to his hair, smoothing her fingers through the dark locks. "You didn't do anything wrong. That guy was an asshole, so you got pissed. That's just part of being human."

            "I dislocated his jaw and split his bottom lip."

            "Good. He deserved it after talking to you like that."

            The android averted his eyes, a soft sigh of breath leaving his lips. "...I... Hearing him... accuse me of not truly feeling anything for you... made... me..."

            His brows knitted together. She didn't think she'd ever seen him looking so conflicted.

            "...Angry..."

            Eve petted his hair again, and shifted closer, resting her head on his shoulder. "Yeah," she said softly. "And that's okay. People get mad. It's normal, Connor. It's not bad to feel angry. Especially when you're defending yourself... or defending others."

            His eyes fluttered closed. "It's just, I... I've never felt anger like that before. I've... felt what could be described as mild annoyance, but never anything that intense."

            "Emotions are scary, aren't they?"

            "...Yes."

            "It's okay." She gave his shoulder a squeeze. "You'll get used to it. It's a part of being alive. And... I'm here for you, okay?" She gave him a smile. "And just so you know, I'm not upset with you for punching out that prick. If you hadn't done it, I would've done it myself."

            That made Connor's mouth twitch with amusement. Slowly, his hand moved to rest on her knee. "Thank you, Eve."

            They stayed like that, cuddled together in the backseat, for the remainder of the ride. The silence had returned, but this time it was a comfortable sort of quiet. With Eve's nose buried in his shoulder, his scent engulfed her, the sweet and comforting smell just about luring her to sleep. She wasn't sure if she'd been awake or not when he finally shook her shoulder to rouse her.

            "We've arrived back at your house, Evelyn," he murmured in her ear, making her shiver as his breath wafted across her skin.

            "Mm..." Stretching her arms, Eve reluctantly moved from her spot cuddled around Connor's body, and pressed the button to open the taxi door. She stepped out first, Connor following to walk her to her doorstep.

            "Thank you for tonight. I had an amazing time," she told him sincerely, as they trotted up the sidewalk. The android smiled faintly, and she detected something like relief in his expression.

            "I'm glad." He stopped when they reached her front door, clasping his hands behind his back. "I enjoyed it, too."

            "We have to do this again soon." Eve stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Goodnight, then, Connor. I'll call you."

            She turned, about to unlock her front door, when suddenly strong fingers latched around her wrist. The human stopped, turning her head to look back at him, lifting an eyebrow in question.

            Her heart lodged itself in her throat when she saw the look on his face. Connor's brows were lowered, a hesitant but surprisingly passionate look in his eyes. Slowly, uncertainly, he took a step forward, closing the distance between them. Then, he leaned down, a gentle hand resting under her chin, and pressed his lips to hers.

            Without hesitation she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning up into the kiss with delight. They stood there for a good ten seconds before Connor drew away, exhaling deeply as if he'd been holding his breath (not that he needed to breathe).

            "...Goodnight, Eve," he said softly. She just let out a breathless giggle, and holy shit, she sounded like a damn schoolgirl. Why did this man do this to her?

            "See you," she murmured back, watching as he stepped back, then turned to head down her porch steps. Blinking rapidly, Eve turned and unlocked the door, stepping over the threshold. But just before she was about to close the door behind her, she turned back around one last time.

            "By the way, Connor," she called, causing him to stop and glance over his shoulder, "you're seriously sexy when you're pissed off."

            She was able to catch a glimpse of his face turning indigo just before the door shut.

Chapter Text

            Connor had never been to a movie theater before.

            He'd spent many a Friday night watching movies on Hank's couch with said human, usually films from the 90s and early 2000s—Hank's childhood—but he'd never actually went out to see a movie on the big screen. He'd simply had no desire to do so, preferring to spend his leisure time at home, reading from Hank's collection of paperback books or playing fetch with Sumo.

            However, when Eve suggested that they go see a movie for their second date, he'd found the idea intriguing. His research on the topic told him that it was a very common romantic date option, and Connor was discovering more and more that he quite liked the idea of the traditional flowers-and-chocolate romance.

            And so that was how the detective android ended up at the Phoenix Theaters at 8 o'clock the next Saturday, following a fifteen minute argument on the phone over who would pay ("You treated me to the fanciest restaurant in Detroit, Connor, I'm paying for the goddamn movie!"). They eventually came to a compromise, with Connor paying for his ticket and Eve paying for hers. He reluctantly agreed to let her pay for her own snacks as well, but only after Eve threatened him with disembowelment.

            "This movie received a four-point-eight star rating from critics, and was liked by 94% of audiences," Connor informed her as they walked side-by-side into the theater. This time, Connor was back in his RK800 jacket, while Eve wore a pair of blue jeans and a loose polo underneath a hoodie, her blonde tresses tied up in a high ponytail.

            "So this should be good then, huh?"

            "Most likely. Popular film critic Jerome Peters described it as, quote, 'One of the best action-adventure movies the 2030s has seen'."

            "Connor, I'm starting to think you do the spouting-facts-like-a-search-engine thing when you're nervous and don't know what else to say."

            The android blinked a few times.

            "...That... may be accurate," he replied, a soft blue hue touching his cheeks. Eve couldn't help but laugh, though it wasn't malicious.

            "It's okay, I don't mind it," she teased, stepping up to the end of the ticket-purchase line.

            The queue moved quickly, and soon they had their tickets, Eve paying with her fingerprint and Connor paying cybernetically with the android minding the booth. Eve allowed herself to splurge at the snack counter, buying a large popcorn, XL coca-cola, and a box of skittles. In order to maintain an hourglass figure (damn it was hard being a woman), she typically tried to watch what she ate, but sometimes she just couldn't fight the craving for fatty foods.

            As they took their seats in the room 11 ("Captive" — 2D), Eve began to notice the way Connor had his eyes glued to her tub of way-too-buttery popcorn.

            "Uh, Con?"

            "Yes?"

            "Any particular reason you're staring at my popcorn like you want to stick your face in it?"

            "Oh—" She could immediately tell that he was flustered by the question, brown eyes snapping away to look at the screen instead. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was staring. It's nothing, I assure you."

            "Connor..."

            The android remained silent, not meeting her eyes. After several tense seconds, the human sighed and sat back in her seat, about to acquiesce and say he didn't have to tell her if he didn't want to.

            But then he spoke. "Evelyn, what does popcorn taste like?"

            She was taken aback, to say the least. "Uh. Well, it's hard to describe taste to someone who can't taste," she said lightly. "I mean... Popcorn is buttery, and salty, and really crunchy. Not so crunchy that it's like, hard to chew, but crunchy in a satisfying way." She paused. "But, you don't know what salty or buttery tastes like, so I don't know how much that helps."

            A faint sigh left Connor's nostrils, and he turned his attention back to the previews. "...You're right. But thank you for trying to explain, anyway."

            He had a look on his face that Eve had never seen on him before, very much like a kicked puppy. She frowned. Sadness was not a good look for him.

            "Hey, Con." Eve nudged his shoulder, picking up her soda and holding it out in front of him. Removing the lid, she asked, "You can't taste, but you can feel sensations, right?"

            "...Correct."

            "Try a little bit of this. Like you were sampling something at a crime scene. I think you'll find it interesting."

            The android furrowed his brows at her, but after a moment of hesitation, moved to take the cup. With his other hand, he dipped two fingers in the cola (Eve had to use all of her strength not to laugh at the odd sight) and brought it to his mouth.

            Connor startled at the sensation of bubbles popping on his tongue. He drew his hand back, staring at the wet digits, and analyzed the sample.

COCA-COLA — carbonated soft drink

Ingredients: Carbonated water, high-fructose corn syrup, caffeine, phosphoric acid, caramel color (E150d), natural flavorings

            "I was aware that this drink is carbonated," Connor said slowly.

            "Yeah, and that's why you jumped as soon as you put your fingers in your mouth."

            "Actually tasting a carbonated beverage wasn't something I'd ever experienced."

            "Like it?"

            "...It was a somewhat pleasant sensation."

            The human laughed, letting her body weight fall against Connor's shoulder. He jostled lightly from the friendly impact. "See? Now you've experienced taste for the first time. That's how sodas taste, plus sweetness. It's like, 90% sugar."

            His coffee-colored eyes lifted to meet her sky-blues, the look on his face somewhere between awed and touched.

            And then suddenly he was kissing her.

            Eve flailed, heart jumping into her throat. She hadn't yet gotten over how incredible it felt to kiss Connor; this was only their third time kissing, and both of the previous times he'd been extremely hesitant and slow-going, like he was creeping up on a skittish animal. This time, he'd crashed his lips so hard against her own it knocked her back, his hand catching the nape of her neck the only thing stopping her from completely falling backwards.

            Finally regaining control of her limbs, Eve clutched onto the lapels of his jacket and closed her eyes. This man will be the death of me, she thought somewhere in the back of her mind, as his lips moved against hers with an intensity she hadn't felt from him before.

            He pulled away way too soon for her liking, and his cheeks were cerulean.

            "I'm—" The android faltered. "I... I'm sorry. I'm not sure why I did that."

            "Don't you dare be sorry." She tugged him closer again, so close their noses brushed. "You can kiss me like that any time you want."

            His ears were turning blue again, he was so flustered, and it was honestly so adorable she could scream.

            "It's starting..." he muttered, and Eve turned her head to the screen. Indeed, the lights were dimming and the screen had gone black, before slowly fading in as the opening scene to the film began.

            "So it is," she murmured back, a faint smile on her lips.

            So they both sat back in their seats, silence filling the theater as everyone began to watch. Eve shifted sideways, curling her hand around Connor's arm and resting her head on his shoulder. He glanced at her, his features softening, and after a moment he adjusted his own position, leaning lightly against her side. His hands, however, remained clasped in his lap.

            "You can put your arm around my shoulders," she murmured, with a fond smile. She could tell he had no idea what he was doing, really, and she wanted to help him in any way that she could.

            He looked at her again, blinking. "Oh. All right." Slowly, he lifted his arm (the one that she wasn't currently clinging to), resting it across the back of her chair. "...Is this fine?"

            "That's perfect, Con."

            In all honesty, she didn't mind his relative cluelessness in the field of romance. She didn't need him to try to be perfect, worry about every gesture, every word he spoke. She just needed him to be himself. However, just as she'd expected, he brightened beneath her praise, clearly glad that he was getting it right, and she was just happy that he was happy.

            The couple quieted once more, staying just as they were, cuddled up close. The movie was indeed highly action-packed, as well as being genuinely funny, earning several laughs from the whole theater. Of course, Connor never laughed, but she did see him smile in amusement once or twice.

            About halfway through, as the protagonist was having a shootout with a group of baddies, Eve leaned up to speak in Connor's ear. She made sure to keep her voice low, but they were in a fairly secluded corner of the theater, so they didn't have to worry too much about bothering the other moviegoers with their talking.

            "What do you think of it so far?"

            "The plot is intriguing, and has kept my interest," Connor replied, making sure to whisper as well. "The humor is good, too. But, I do find myself a bit underwhelmed by the action."

            "Really?" she said in surprise. "Why's that?"

            "I don't know," he admitted. "I suppose it could be because I've experienced a lot of action in my own life. Humans often enjoy these type of films because they get to watch exciting and dangerous scenarios that they never have or never will experience. But, being a police officer is a fairly active and dangerous lifestyle."

            "Well, I'm sure you've never jumped out of a plane without a parachute," Eve remarked, nodding her head at the screen.

            "No, but I've jumped onto the roof of a moving train."

            "You WHA—" Eve came extremely close to getting herself kicked out of the theater by shouting at the top of her lungs. She managed to stop herself at the last second, thankfully. "You're lying."

            His head tilted. "I'm not. You can ask Lieutenant Anderson if you're that skeptical. He witnessed me do it."

            "You are insane. I hope that's the craziest thing you've ever done."

            "That's debatable. Then again, I don't really know what you'd define as 'crazy'."

            Eve had totally abandoned her attention from the movie now, instead just staring up at Connor with complete incredulity. "Connor, what else have you done?" she asked, in a tone similar to a parent asking their five-year-old how the antique vase in the living room had gotten broken.

            He was looking back at her with a curious expression, seeming a bit perplexed by her behavior. "...I once approached an armed and highly volatile deviant standing on the edge of the roof, holding a human child hostage."

            "I remember that. You're talking about that household android who shot like five people and was threatening to jump off of the roof with a little girl. Back in August. That was all over the news."

            Connor nodded. "That was one of the first major deviant incidents that was showcased in the media."

            "I watched a replay of the live footage the next day. You talked him down and got him to let her go. It was really impressive." Seeing the way Connor's eyes darkened, clearly remembering the way the PL600 had been gunned down, Eve quickly changed the subject. "You were a hot topic in the media once the deviant investigation started in November, too. Lots of people were talking about the highly advanced prototype being allowed to play an active role in a criminal investigation."

            Connor hesitated. She could tell he didn't really know what to say in response. Finally, he just replied with a simple "I'm aware."

            "What other crazy shit have you done?"

            His LED flickered yellow as he flipped through his memory banks, pausing for a long moment. "I managed to successfully locate a deviant android who stabbed his owner to death and hid in the attic for two weeks."

            "That's not really crazy, just impressive."

            "I chased another deviant across a highway with heavy traffic."

            "Connor what the fuck."

            "Lieutenant Anderson was extremely unhappy about that."

            "I'll bet he was, how did you not die? Did the deviant die?"

            "No. They got away. It was dangerous, however. I did get briefly knocked down by a truck when the deviant pushed me away from her."

            Eve buried her face in her hands with a groan. "You better not do shit like this with me, you'll give me a heart attack. I don't know how Hank didn't have one, during that investigation."

            A slight smirk curled the edge of Connor's lip at that remark. "After I deviated," he went on, "and infiltrated the CyberLife Tower, I had to neutralize five armed human guards at once."

            "Five?"

            "It wasn't very difficult. They didn't expect me to have a shield, or a gun. Or for me to be so fast."

            "Holy shit. I knew you were a badass but, goddamn."

            He smiled faintly at her again, but this time his smile was... different. Almost cold.

            "They were just doing their job," he said softly. "If I had been more observant, I would have noticed the security camera in the elevator and disabled it. Then, I wouldn't have had to take even more lives in order to accomplish my mission. ...But I wasn't observant enough."

            "Hey hey hey hey, whoa," Eve quickly reached up, placing her hands on his cheeks. "Don't be like that. You just did what you had to do. It would've been nice if you didn't have to kill people, but, revolutions don't work that way. People die. A whole lot of androids died." She leaned up, and pressed her lips to his forehead. "You killed those guards so you could free all those androids in the warehouse. If you hadn't done that, the revolution might not have succeeded. You saved millions of android lives."

            He looked at her with those big brown eyes, that coldness melting away.

            "...You're very good at making me feel better, Eve."

            Hearing that from him was absolutely heart-melting. Actually, she was pretty sure her heart itself stopped. Her breath caught in her throat, cheeks filling with color.

            Connor was an angel, really he was. He made her happy, he made her laugh, he frustrated her, he embarrassed her. He was stupidly oblivious and unbelievably smart, painfully adorable as well as breathtakingly sexy, and now this wonderful, goofy, sweet man was telling her she made him happy, too.

            "...I'm glad," she managed at last. She gave him an affectionate nudge. "That's what I'm here for."

            He tilted his head, smiling slowly. "That's what a significant other does for their partner..." he gave a short nod, "right?"

            Holy shit, he was seriously going to kill her.

            "Eve..." The android shifted his head so it was resting in the crook of her shoulder. His lips brushed her skin as he spoke. "Will you be in an exclusive relationship with me, officially?"

            Yep. She was dead. It was official. Her soul just left her body.

            She couldn't stop herself from grinning ear to ear. "If you're asking me to be your girlfriend, you dork, then yes. I'd absolutely love to."

            Of all the times she'd seen Connor smile, it had never looked as deeply soulful as it did now.

oXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo

            "That was really good, I'm so glad I finally went to see it."

            "You missed the entire climax because of our conversation."

            "Shut up, I still thought it was awesome."

            Eve tossed her trash in the bin on the way out before curling her hand around Connor's arm, letting him lead the way out of the theater. She didn't fail to notice how he was still smiling. Normally, Connor would only smile for a few seconds before resuming his poker-face—not that it bothered her or anything, that's just how he was. But, ever since she'd agreed to go steady with him, each time she'd glanced over, he still had that warm smile on his lips. It was honestly like seeing the most beautiful sunrise over a clear blue ocean.

            God, he's making me so mushy and gross.

            "Hey, Connor?"

            The android looked up at her inquisitive, and somehow wary, tone of voice. "Yes?"

            "Does it... make you sad, that you can't eat or drink?" she asked him softly. For some reason, even with the bliss of their relationship becoming official, she just hadn't been able to get that kicked-puppy look out of her mind's eye

            His shoulders tensed, but relaxed only a second later. He sighed. "I... I don't know if sad is the right word."

            "...Left out?"

            "It makes me feel inhuman, Eve."

            That made her heart wrench. His smile had finally vanished, and she was starting to think she shouldn't have asked, shouldn't have ruined his good mood.

            "Oh, Connor..." she murmured, biting down on her lip.

            "It isn't something I think about often," he assured her. "...But I do sometimes wish that I had the same needs as you. Not... only because I'd like to feel human, but... for the experience. I've always heard that eating food can be very pleasurable."

            "...Yeah. It is," the human agreed softly.

            "Eating food that tastes good stimulates the reward centers in the brain. It makes humans happy. It's simply... unfortunate, not to be able to experience one of life's greatest sensory pleasures." Connor shook his head. "But it's an irrational sentiment. Feeling inhuman shouldn't bother me, because I'm not human."

            Eve's eyes went wide. "Whoa whoa whoa, stop right there." Tugging the android to a stop in the middle of the parking lot, she turned so she was facing him. "You are human, Con."

            "Eve, I am an android."

            "Shut your face and listen. You know what it means to be human?"

            "Belonging to the genus Homo, more specifically the species Homo sapiens when referring to modern human beings."

            "It was a rhetorical question, Connor."

            "....Oh."

            "Being human means feeling complex emotions. Love, guilt, hope, despair. Do you feel emotions, Connor?"

            To her surprise, the android hesitated, a shadow passing over his chocolate eyes.

            "You better not be about to say no."

            "N-no, I do... feel emotions, I'm aware of that. I just... don't seem to feel things as deeply as other deviants do."

            "Bullshit."

            "Eve—?"

            "You feel happiness. You were smiling like a total lovesick dork for a solid thirty minutes there." She stepped closer. "You feel sadness. You looked so disappointed when I couldn't describe how popcorn tastes."

            "Eve—"

            "You feel love; you love and respect Hank like he's your father. You feel guilt; you hated having to kill people in order to aid the revolution. You feel anger; that man at the restaurant last Saturday, you knocked him into next year. You feel empathy. When I just choked on my food a little, you absolutely lost your shit." She grabbed him by the front of his jacket, peering up into his face. "What emotions don't you feel? Tell me."

            "...I..." His face was suddenly so expressive. Lost, confused, uncertain, conflicted, touched, moved, stunned. A thousand emotions flickered across his face in a nanosecond. Finally, he just gave a wordless shake of his head and stepped forward, closing the few inches between them and pulling her into his chest.

            "You're special, Connor," Eve murmured into his collar. "You're so extraordinary. And you're definitely alive."

            "I'm so lucky to have met you, Eve." He squeezed her ever so gently in his arms. "...So lucky to be your... boyfriend."

            The blonde detective smiled. "I'm lucky, too." She pulled back to look him in the face again. "So, you can't eat. So what? You're still just as human as me, or Hank, or Fowler or anyone. And you're a great human. That's rare, you know. Most humans are shitty."

            Connor pressed his forehead to hers, gazing into her eyes. Then, he took a deep breath and stepped back.

            "I... was contacted by CyberLife a few weeks back."

            "Oh?" That was a random change of subject. Worry clenched in her chest. "Was there something wrong?"

            "No, nothing wrong. They... had a proposal."

            "A proposal?"

            "I'm not the only android who wishes to experience life in greater sensory detail." Connor moved to lean against the side of a nearby car, folding his arms across his chest. "There are androids that can eat and drink, namely the YK models. There are androids with functioning sex organs, the WR and HR400s. There are androids that can smell, taste, sleep, and dream. The problem isn't creating androids with the ability to have sensory experiences, CyberLife has already perfected that. The problem is integrating those sensory experiences into models of androids that were never built for it, adapting relatively simplistic programming into something much more complex."

            Eve pulled her hood up over her head as an icy wind blew through the parking lot, staring at the man before her, trying to process what he was saying.

            "CyberLife tried its hardest to eliminate deviancy. That's why you exist. Why would they want to help androids feel more human?"

            "They don't have a choice. Under the new civil rights laws, they have to help androids assimilate into living independently in human society. Furthermore, just because the leaders of CyberLife attempted to eliminate deviancy doesn't mean that every CyberLife employee is unsympathetic towards androids. The team that contacted me actually seemed very willing and happy to work on the project."

            Eve's head tilted to the side. "What was their proposal?"

            "I'm still only a prototype, and a highly advanced one at that. That means that my systems are much more adaptable, easier to update."

            "So they asked you to be their guinea pig."

            "That's putting it quite harshly."

            "What did you say?"

            Connor took in another deep breath, and she wondered why he did that so often. His artificial respiration was purely for show; he didn't need oxygen in any way, shape, or form. "They can't do anything to me without my consent, in accordance with the new android laws. I wasn't sure how I felt about the proposal, so I said I'd think about it and get back to them."

            Eve moved forward then, reaching out and taking his hands in hers. "Why not do it? You really seem like you want to feel human. I think it'd be good for you. As long as they promise it'll be safe."

            "Well, for one thing, it seems highly impractical for a detective android to have taste receptors."

            "You're talking about how you can analyze blood."

            "Yes."

            "Okay, why don't you have them make it so you can turn your sense of taste on and off whenever you want?"

            "I—" Connor paused. "...That's a valid argument."

            "'Course it is. I'm a genius."

            That earned her a light elbow to the ribs. She couldn't help but giggle. It wasn't often that she got to see him being playful, and it was refreshing.

            "I'm also... a bit... apprehensive, about the idea of some of the sensations they may equip me with. Like pain," he confessed, looking just a tad bit embarrassed by the admission. "That was the other reason for my hesitance."

            "Understandable."

            "...Do you really think it'd be good for me?"

            Eve slid into his arms, tucking her head beneath his chin. His arms wrapped around the small of her back.

            "I do."

            A soft smile touched his lips. "I'll keep your opinion in mind." Pushing off of the car, he guided her towards the sidewalk on the edge of the street. "Now. We should get you home," he murmured, LED flashing yellow as he called for a taxi.

            The human grinned, nuzzling into his side. "If we must."

oXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo

             "Hank?"

            "What's up, Connor?"

            "Hank, Eve agreed to be my girlfriend."

            "....Is that the only reason you called? To tell me that?"

            "Yes."

            "For Christ's sake, I'm not your mom. What are you, fifteen?"

            "Hank."

            "Fine. I'm happy for you, all right? Where the fuck are you anyway?"

            "I'm in a taxi, on my way home. I just dropped Eve off. I should reach your house in approximately ten minutes."

            "Okay, nice. Sumo's been waiting for ya all night. Maybe you can tell me how the movie was when you get here."

            "I'd like that."

            "Cool. See you when you get home?"

            "Yes."

            "All right, later. Oh, and Connor?"

            "Yes?"

            "I really am happy for you, son."

            "...Thank you, Hank. I'm happy, too."

Chapter Text

            "Eve."

            The human whirled around, eyes going huge in her face. Finally, there was Connor, striding through the large glass turnstiles that separated the tower's entrance room from the rest of the building, the scanner announcing "Connor android identified" as he went.

            Hell yeah it's a Connor android, Eve thought to herself as she took off, sprinting the few feet between her and her boyfriend and throwing herself into his arms. He grunted, nearly losing his balance from the impact. It's MY Connor android!

            "You said you'd be done by 2 o'clock," the female whined with childlike petulance, burying her face in Connor's marked jacket. "It's 3:30!"

            Eve had come to meet the RK800 at the CyberLife Tower, following his decision the previous day to follow through with the sensory update. He hadn't told her to come and meet him after the procedure was finished, but she just hadn't been able to contain her worry.

            "The overhaul was more difficult than they anticipated," he replied in an apologetic tone. "There were many major technical difficulties in merging and overriding my original programming with the new code, as well as adding the new biocomponents needed for some of the biological processes, such as the imitation digestive system—"

            "Woah," Eve drew back, holding up her hands, "slow down, I don't speak technobabble."

            A slight smile tugged at Connor's lips, a look of fondness flickering in his eyes. "They had trouble making the necessary changes to my code and adding biocomponents that weren't ever meant to be in my model. They even ended up having to adjust the placement of my thirium pump. That was what took up most of the time. An android's thirium pump can't be turned off once the model is activated for the first time without risking damage, particularly memory impairment."

            "For fuck's sake." Eve hid herself back in his chest, squeezing him tightly. "You told me it wouldn't be dangerous! They had to mess with your heart?!"

            "I'm fine, Eve. It was just a very painstaking operation, they needed to be careful. Nothing went wrong during the procedure because of their vigilance. I was in good hands."

            The human didn't let up on her grip, her arms still wrapped iron-tight around his torso as if she'd never let him go again. The pressure of her arms was starting to cause a strange and unpleasant sensation on the surface of his waistline, where she was squeezing.

            "Eve. They did equip me with pain receptors, and I think you may be stimulating them."

            "Oh shit, sorry!" She quickly let go, Connor feeling immediate relief. "I was just... dammit, I've been losing my shit since 3. I thought you weren't ever coming out of there."

            Connor's eyes softened, his brown irises like melted chocolate. "I'm fine," he repeated, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Like I said, nothing went wrong. It was successful. Though, they did ask me to give Lieutenant Anderson this."

            Reaching into his back pocket, Connor produced a small, folded sheet of paper. Eve was surprised to see it—you didn't see real, legitimate paper too often nowadays—and reached out to take it, unfolding the note.

            "They were going to simply upload this document to my memory banks and have me recite it back to him, but I told them I thought he'd prefer it on paper," he explained as the human skimmed the text, her eyes wide and curious.

Connor model 313 248 317 - 51 experimental sensory upgrade

Features:

-Ability to eat and drink

-Hunger and thirst

-Ability to sleep

-Ability to dream

-Drowsiness approximately 14 hours after exiting sleep mode

-Drowsiness if sleep mode lasts for less than six hours

-Inebriation

-Male sex organs and pleasure receptors

-Heat and cold receptors

-Pain receptors

-Shivering

-Sweating

If your Connor model shows signs of software or hardware damage, or experiences any malfunctions, please contact a CyberLife technician at 1-800-555-4640.

            "'Your Connor model'," Eve read aloud, a note of displeasure in her voice. "Like Hank's your owner."

            "I don't think they meant anything by it."

            "Like hell they didn't." She offered the document back to Connor. "How do you feel?"

            "...Different. But not in a way that I can easily describe. None of my new sensory receptors are beng stimulated currently, so I just feel... generally strange." He reached up to fix his tie. "I did feel pain when you hugged me so tightly, however. That was... interesting."

            "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to hurt you—"

            "No, it's okay. I was just making an observation." He glanced around the (enormous) entrance room, lifting his eyebrows. "Lieutenant Anderson isn't here?" he questioned, sounding surprised.

            "Actually, he's waiting in the car outside.

            Connor couldn't help but smile. "It wasn't necessary for either of you to come. I'm perfectly capable of making it home on my own." Before Eve could respond, he went on, "But... I was expecting you'd be here."

            "Too smart for us, huh?"

            "Androids are infinitely more intelligent than humans by default."

            "Hank's turning you into such a smartass."

            A grin tugged at his mouth. "Perhaps."

            "C'mon, you dork." Eve reached out, catching his hand in hers and giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. "Did they say you can eat and drink, like, immediately? Or do you have to wait?"

            "I'm able to process food and liquid now, yes."

            "Awesome. Then I have someplace I wanna take you." She tugged on his hand, pulling the android into a brisk walk. "Let's go."

            "Someplace you want to...? Where are we going?"

            The human smirked. "It's a surprise."

            She was pretty sure Connor's pouty face was her new favorite of all his facial expressions.

            As the female detective all but dragged Connor out of the building, the android suddenly went stock still the instant they stepped outside. Eve nearly toppled over, seeing as she'd been holding his hand when he abruptly began to mimic a statue, breaking her momentum. Turning, Eve was met with a look of shock frozen on Connor's expression.

            "Con? You okay?"

            "I... I've felt this before. In the Zen Garden."

            Eve's face went instantly serious. He'd told her before about the place CyberLife had programmed into his mind palace, functioning as a way for Connor to report his progress in the deviant investigation. Or at least, that was what they'd told him. Of course, he'd discovered later that the program's true function was to entrap his consciousness and his free will in the event that he became a deviant.

            "Felt what, Con?" Eve asked softly, keeping her tone low and gentle.

            "...Cold." The android lifted his hands, rubbing at his arms with a slow shiver. "It's... so cold."

            "Hey... it's okay. We'll get you a coat. C'mere..." Eve moved to press against his side, curling her arms around his waist. To her relief, he relaxed, melting into the warmth radiating from her. "We can walk like this to the car, and you won't be so cold."

            "...Thank you."

            "Everything's okay." Eve pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You're safe."

            "I know," he replied, the slightest hint of sharpness to his tone. "I know I'm safe."

            "Of course you do, Connor. Of course you do."

oXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo

             Connor stared up at the sign hanging above the little shop's double doors, absentmindedly tugging his coat (which was actually Hank's coat...) tighter around himself. Bright neon letting spelled out MOOTOWN, and he could see children standing beyond the shop windows, eyes all lit up and full of glee.

Mootown Ice Cream & Dessert Shoppe

2461 Russell St, Detroit, MI

Opened in 1996

Health Inspection Rating: 99% A

            Evelyn glanced over to see Connor's LED spinning yellow in his temple. "Hey, knock it off," she scolded, bumping his arm to get his attention. "Quit scanning everything and just focus on being here, living life. All right?"

            Connor blinked at her, LED cycling back to blue. "...If you insist."

            "I do insist." Striding past him, Eve grabbed the door handle and pulled it open, smiling back at the android. "After you."

            Connor tilted his head quizzically, but nevertheless moved forward to enter the shop. Instantly he was assaulted with the third of the new sensations he'd experienced thus far: scent. More specifically, the subtly sweet scent of ice cream, though for the android who'd never been able to smell before, it was almost overpowering.

            "Why did you bring me here?" he asked, turning his head to glance back at Eve, who was stepping into the shop after him. She gave him a look that was somewhere between amused and incredulous, a grin splitting across her face.

            "Take a guess, dummy."

            Frowning, Connor turned in a slow circle, scanning his surroundings. Connected to the check-out counter was a glass freezer, and inside he could see a rainbow of ice cream flavors (twenty flavors in all, he noted). There was a short queue with a little girl in the very front, happily licking a cone of rocky road while the man beside her, her father perhaps, placed a bill on the counter.

            "...So I can eat ice cream?"

            "Bingo." Eve trotted forward so she was standing at his side, leaning her weight against him affectionately. "Ice cream's more of a summer thing, but I decided what the hell, people still buy it no matter what season it is. And I think you'll like it. Pretty much everyone likes ice cream." She nudged him. "My treat."

            "What—? No, I can pay for—"

            "It's not a discussion, Connor, I'm paying for you. It's your first time trying food, I want to treat you to it."

            "But—"

            "Ah!" She shoved her index finger to his lips. "Shut up and let me pay."

            Eyes narrowing, Connor huffed, actually huffed, before finally relenting. "All right..." He lifted his eyes to the digital menu on the wall as Eve led him to the end of the queue, feeling a little overwhelmed by the sheer number of choices.

            "What kind do I get?"

            "Why are you asking me? It's your choice, I'll buy you whatever you want."

            "No, I meant..." He hesitated, pressing his lips into a thin line. "Humans have taste preferences. But I don't know what my preference is, because I don't know what anything tastes like."

            "Oh..." the human murmured, understanding filling her eyes. She followed his gaze to the menu, humming thoughtfully. "Well... I could just order for you? Get you something I think you might like?"

            "I'd like that."

            "All right, we'll do that then." Eve moved her hand to grip Connor's once more, but this time, he met her halfway, catching her hand and interlacing their fingers. It was a subconscious movement, his curious eyes still on the menu.

            She grinned. He was becoming more and more human every second of every day.

            It didn't take them long to reach the front of the line. Eve could feel Connor's eyes on her as she stepped up to the android cashier, the RK800 clearly waiting to hear her decision.

            "A regular size vanilla soft serve in a cup, please. With hot fudge and sprinkles." She turned to Connor. "...How does that sound?"

            "I trust you," he replied simply. He honestly had no clue how that sounded to him; without having any sense of taste, it just sounded like an arbitrary assortment of foods. But he did trust her, wholeheartedly.

            Eve groaned. "Don't say it like that, I'll feel bad if you don't like it." She handed a five over to the cashier, a male model with red hair and bright eyes, and watched as he placed the bill in the register and went to retrieve her order.

            "Thank you for treating me, Eve," Connor spoke up suddenly. She looked up at him, but he was staring at the clerk, watching the redhead scoop the plain white ice cream from its tub. If he'd been human, the intensity of Connor's gaze definitely would have freaked him out. Honestly, Eve was still surprised he wasn't unnerved, even though he appeared to be non-deviant.

            "Of course," the female replied. "I want your first time trying food to be special."

            "That's unnecessary, but I appreciate it nonetheless."

            The cashier returned to the counter, holding out a styrofoam cup filled with a generous amount of ice cream and topped with steaming fudge and rainbow sprinkles. "Here's your order."

            "Thank you." Eve accepted the cup, and smiled up at the RK model. "C'mon, let's sit down."

            Connor nodded, eyes glued to the cup in her hand. The duo moved towards the closest table, Eve setting down the ice cream and taking a seat while the android sat opposite from her. It was fairly quiet in the parlor, not crowded at all, and sitting in the peaceful little shop with her Connor across from her, there was honestly no place she'd rather be.

            Connor reached for the cup, but Eve got to it first, grabbing the spoon that had been stuck into the mound of vanilla. He raised his brows as she scooped up a spoonful with plenty of fudge, and held it across the table.

            "Open your mouth."

            "Eve, I can eat by mys—"

            "Open. Your. Mouth."

            Evelyn swore she saw Connor roll his eyes for a split second, before he leaned forward, parting his lips. With a playful, loving grin, Eve spooned the ice cream into his mouth, eagerly watching his face as the treat spread on his tongue.

            Instantly, his eyes lit up like Christmas lights, a look of innocent surprise and awe flashing across his face, and she couldn't have hoped for a better reaction. He closed his eyes, letting the dessert melt in his mouth, chewing slowly.

Vanilla ice cream: milk, sugar, heavy cream, salt, vanilla bean, egg yolk, vanilla extract.

Fudge (melted): sugar, unsweetened cocoa powder, heavy cream, butter, vanilla extract, salt

Sprinkles: sugar, corn syrup, cornstarch, artificial color, artificial flavoring

            "What do you think?" Eve asked him softly. A pointless question, really, she could see what he thought from the look on his face, but she asked it anyway.

            "It's—I—" The android fumbled, shaking his head. "I... I can't articulate it. I would say incredible or amazing, but that doesn't... properly describe how I feel about this."

            It was a beautiful blend of flavors, the contrasting temperatures of the frozen treat and the hot fudge making him shiver pleasantly, the sprinkles giving it just a slight crunch. His database told him that ice cream was a "sweet" food, so this must be what sweet tasted like. Connor decided he wanted to try every kind of sweet food there was in the world.

            Eve scooped up another spoonful. "More?"

            Connor nearly bit the plastic spoon in half with how fast he closed his mouth around it.

oXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo

             Hank looked up at the sound of the doorbell, lifting himself from his recliner with a grunt. Unsurprisingly, when he pulled open his front door, he found Connor and Evelyn standing on the porch.

            "Hey, welcome back." Catching a glimpse of the grocery bag clutched in Connor's right hand, Hank raised a brow. "What's that?"

            Connor lifted the bag for him to see. "Ice cream."

            Eve hid her smirk behind her hand as Hank took the bag and peered inside. The lieutenant's eyebrows vanished into his hairline when he saw the two (not one, but two) giant tubs of vanilla ice cream, eyes snapping back up to give Connor a what the fuck look.

            "Why'd you get so much?!" Then, in Eve's direction, "Why did you let him get so much?"

            "Hey, I stopped him from getting three buckets!"

            "I won't let it go to waste," Connor butted in innocently.

            "Oh my god, Connor." Hank dragged a hand down his face, giving an exasperated chuckle. He stepped aside, holding the door open. "Come on, get in here, it's cold as hell out there."

            The couple moved into the house, Connor heading for the kitchen to stow his ice cream in the freezer, Eve staying in the living room and rubbing at her arms to warm up.

            "I take it you took him to an ice cream parlor?" Hank inquired, giving Eve a knowing look.

            "Yep. He really liked it."

            "Obviously."

            "You really should've came with us. That look on his face when he first tried it... It was like... seeing a newborn baby smile and giggle for the first time."

            A faint grin appeared on Hank's lips. "I'm sure. But, I thought it'd be more romantic for you two to be alone."

            Before Eve could respond, Connor re-entered into the living room, slipping off his jacket and draping it over one arm. "What are you having for dinner, Lieutenant?"

            Hank smirked at the question. Connor's face was neutral, but Hank could see right through him.

            "I was thinkin' I'd order a pizza."

            "Pizza..." Connor's head tilted, and Eve could only describe the look on his face as dreamy. It was such a strange expression on him. Strange and beautiful.

            The old detective turned to Eve. "Hey, you want to have dinner with us? I'm sure Connor'd love for you to stay. Besides, it'd be a good chance to get to know you better, you being his girlfriend now and all."

            "Gotta get his dad's approval, huh?"

            "Watch it, Long."

            Evelyn grinned. "I'd love to stay for dinner, thank you."

            "All right, but I want you two to stay in the living room. I ain't having any funny business in my house."

            That made Eve give a long pffffftt sound, while Connor just cocked his head, not quite understanding. Seriously, he was so precious she could pinch his cheeks.

            "Will do," she agreed, still chuckling. She felt Connor's hand brush hers, intertwining their fingers once again. When she looked up at him, he was smiling, a full smile that stretched the entire width of his mouth.

            "Hey Hank," she called, as the lieutenant went to retrieve his phone. "Order some cheesy bread too! And sodas!"

            Hank gave a two-fingered salute as he vanished into the kitchen. "Gotcha."

Chapter Text

            The morning after Connor's very first time sleeping, he woke to an odd pressure on top of him, and a very strange wet sensation lapping at his fingertips.

            Deciding that priority number one was to figure out why the hell his fingers were wet, Connor opened his eyes and turned his head, finding Sumo at his side. The android's fingers were faintly stained with cheese and pizza sauce, and Sumo had taken the opportunity to sample some human food, licking eagerly at Connor's hand.

            "Nnnh, Sumo... Off," he commanded, surprised to find his own voice husky with sleep. Naturally, the St. Bernard completely ignored him, instead opting to place his front paws on Connor's chest and lick the spot of marinara sauce from his cheek. "Sumo! Down!"

            With a low bork, Sumo dropped back to the floor, big paws padding across the room back towards his bed. Connor wiped his hand on his pants and rubbed his forearm across his cheek, blinking his eyes drowsily. Finally, he turned his attention to the pressure he felt, evidently something that had been laid on top of him.

            ...Or someone. Connor blinked rapidly up at Evelyn, who was curled up and snoozing above him, half-on his chest and half-tucked against the couch. A blanket had been draped over the both of them.

            Baffled, Connor searched through his memory banks, but couldn't find any memory of Eve falling asleep on his chest. The last thing he remembered was lying down on the living room couch, feeling a strange and foreign sense of heaviness, of low energy. Eve was sitting on the floor next to him, Hank in the recliner and Sumo at his feet.

            "You're just tired, Con, you're not dying," Eve had chuckled, reaching for the remote (Hank's living room television wasn't a voice-activated one, the old-fashioned model something Connor had never seen anywhere else). "How about a movie?"

            "Eve, I enjoy spending time with you, but it's 9:08 PM. You should head home soon in order to get a proper night's rest," Connor had mumbled back, and he remembered how his own voice had sounded slightly slurred, the way his eyelids had begun to flutter.

            "It's not a work night, and you're not my mom," she'd teased. Vaguely, Connor remembered Hank smirk at that. "Oh, Black Panther. I watched this when I was little. Let's put it on. You seen it before, Con?"

            Connor had no more visual data for the previous night after that, though he did have a slightly distorted audio clip of Hank's voice: "He's already out cold, kid, don't waste your breath. Want some popcorn?"

            The android frowned, checking his internal clock. It was 7:03 AM, which meant that Eve had been here all night. He turned to glance at the recliner, but saw no sign of Hank. Presumably, the man had retired to his bedroom at some point.

            Eve let out a soft, sleepy noise, causing the RK800 to look down. Suddenly, his processors stalled, eyes going wide.

WARNING: IRREGULAR THIRIUM PUMP CONTRACTIONS.

            He dismissed the stupid warning (he could feel his heart stuttering, he didn't need his systems to tell him that), wanting his visual field clear to look at the human's face. She looked absolutely angelic as she slept, her lips slightly parted, eyelashes fanned out against her cheeks, blonde locks curling messily around the shape of her face. A sense of protectiveness clenched tight around his chest, a wild and startlingly fierce need to keep her safe from anything in the world that might hurt her. The sudden wave of emotion was rather terrifying; he still wasn't used to feeling so strongly.

            Connor took in a long, slow breath when he felt himself starting to get overwhelmed. It was normal, it was okay, he didn't need to be afraid anymore. He was allowed to feel.

            He remembered, suddenly, something Hank had told him once, when the android had been trembling and breaking open in front of him, silently drowning in guilt, the faces of every android he'd put through hell flashing across his mind's eye. His face had been blank and unreadable, hands clenched into fists, eyes staring straight ahead, his shaking shoulders the only visible sign of distress, and Hank had spoken to him in a soft, soothing tone, the way you'd speak to a child who'd just awoken from a nightmare.

            "Don't fight it, kid. Just let yourself feel it."

            So Connor did. He'd ended up sinking into the lieutenant's comforting arms, letting each wave of guilt roll through his body, shaking him like a leaf in the wind, and speaking in a low, rough voice against Hank's shoulder: "I don't deserve to be free after everything I've done."

            And it had helped. Though he'd felt horrible in the moment, he remembered feeling much lighter afterwards, exhausted and emotionally spent in a good sort of way.

            So he didn't try to fight the territorial feeling gripping his heart, instead welcoming it, warmth filling him from head to toe as he gazed into the young detective's face. He felt, suddenly, the urge to lean up and kiss her, for whatever reason. Deciding to give into the instinct, Connor lifted a hand to cup her cheek, and tilted his head up to kiss her on the lips.

            He felt her stir, another soft little noise leaving her as she began to wake. Drawing away, he watched as Eve's eyelids fluttered, as her mouth opened in a yawn.

            "Connor...?"

            The android smiled faintly. "Good morning."

            "Did you just kiss me awake?" Eve asked, rubbing at her eyes with a grin.

            "...Yes?"

            "God, you really are a hopeless romantic."

            Connor frowned at the term. The word hopeless had a decidedly negative connotation, but she didn't seem displeased, or like she was insulting him.

Search term: hopeless romantic

A hopeless romantic is an expression describing a person who had romantic notions about life. For a hopeless romantic, life = love, especially when that person is involved in a relationship.

            "...I'm not sure that's a very accurate description of my personality."

            "Denying it doesn't make it any less true."

            The android huffed, causing his human partner to grin fondly. She reached down and tousled his perfect head of hair, somehow still looking neatly combed even after sleeping. Connor wrinkled his nose in displeasure.

            "You're so cute," she said, truth reverberating through every syllable.

            "I don't particularly agree with that, either," he remarked. Absentmindedly, he reached up, meticulously smoothing his hair back into place. "Eve, if you don't mind me cutting the witty banter. Why did you spend the night?"

            Oh she shouldn't tease him, she really shouldn't. But she did anyway, completely unable to stop herself.

            "Oh, did you mind?" she asked, lifting her brows with a hint of a smile.

            He reacted exactly as she expected. "No, no—! I... I didn't mean it that way. I just..." His fingers twitched at his side, as if he wanted to fix his tie (he wasn't wearing it) or fidget with his quarter (it was in his jacket, which he also wasn't wearing). "I'm just confused, that's all."

            "Well, what're you confused about?" Eve finally sat up, stretching her arms above her head. "We were all having a good time, and it got really late, and Hank said I could just stay if I wanted since it was so late. So I stayed."

            "...Perhaps surprised is a better word, to describe how I feel."

            "And... why are you surprised?"

            "I... I don't know," the RK800 fumbled. "I... just am."

            Eve smiled at him. Reaching down, she smoothed her thumbs over his eyebrows, as if attempting to wipe away the look of awkwardness and unease on his expression.

            "I really love spending time with you, Con," she said softly. "And I felt comfortable staying. I don't know Hank too well yet, but he really seems trustworthy."

            "He is," Connor responded, without missing a beat.

            "So... I didn't have a problem with staying. You're all just a big adorkable family."

            "...I don't believe adorkable is a word."

            "Is too."

            "Mornin', you delinquents—agh, Jesus!"

            The couple turned in unison to look where Hank had just appeared in the doorway. The older man covered his eyes with one hand and turned away, groaning. Now that Eve had sat up, she was positioned (unintentionally) straddling Connor's hips, and Hank seemed less than pleased with this arrangement.

            "Get a goddamn room! For fuck's sake, I thought I told you two 'no funny business in my house'?!"

            Connor tilted his head, still not understanding Hank's euphemism, while Eve just rolled her eyes.

            "Calm down, old man, we were just talking. We just woke up, too."

            "'Ey," Hank said sharply, pointing a finger at the younger human, though any intimidation he may have been going for was ruined by the twinkle in his blue eyes. "I'm still your superior, Long, show me some respect."

            "Sorry, Lieutenant Old Man."

            "Why you little—"

            "If I may, Lieutenant," Connor interjected, "I have to admit, I'm failing to understand what you mean when you say 'funny business'. Could you explain?"

            The room went awkwardly silent. Eve and Hank exchanged glances with each other, both humans looking equally incredulous, while Connor just stared at them expectantly.

            "I'm gonna tell him."

            "Hank don't you dare."

            "Connor, when I say funny business, I mean—"

            "LA LA LA LA LA!" Eve screeched, clapping her hands over the android's ears.

            Well, this was an incredibly strange encounter, Connor thought to himself, blinking in utter bewilderment as Hank doubled over with laughter and Eve swore vehemently at him. Perhaps it would be better if I just let it go.

oXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo

            "Eve, I really don't think this is a sensible idea," Connor stressed for the umpteenth time since they'd entered the precinct's physical training room.

            "Oh come on, it'll be fun. I've gotta work on my fitness, and you're not doing anything during the break, so you may as well exercise with me."

            "I am an android," Connor said in exasperation. "There isn't any point in me exercising with you. It won't improve my personal fitness in any way, and there won't be a challenge. I'm much faster and stronger than you."

            "Well geez, rub it in." Eve tossed a pair of boxing gloves at the RK model, which he caught easily. "I don't care if I don't have a chance at winning, just lemme spar with you."

            "Evelyn, I don't want to hurt you."

            The human's features softened at that. "You won't," she told him. "I trust you. I'll be fine. Really, this'll be fun. You'll see."

            Connor grimaced, brown eyes lowering to stare at the gloves in his hands. Finally, he let out a deep sigh through his nose and began to tug them on. "If you insist."

            Eve grinned, pulling her own gloves on and giving his arm a gentle nudge. "Thanks. And try not to worry so much." She winked at him. "I'll go easy on you."

            The android just shook his head at her, the same way a parent might react to a child who had just said something ridiculous. "Shall we begin?" He lifted his fists, and she lifted hers.

            "Guess so," the blonde mused.

            Slowly, the two detectives began to circle each other, icy-blue eyes locked on chocolate-browns. The human watched her sparring partner closely, looking for any sort of opening, while Connor remained in a purely defensive stance, clearly having no interest in throwing a punch.

            Finally, Eve swayed forward and aimed a punch at his face, more testing his reflexes than actually trying to hit him. He blocked it flawlessly with his forearm, brows lowered in concentration. She kicked at his right side, Connor easily swerving out of the way, and then she caught him off guard, punching at his left while he was still mid-dodge. He jerked back with a little less grace, and she damn near hit him that time.

            "You are fast," she noted with genuine admiration.

            "So are you, for a human."

            "I'm not sure whether I should thank you or call you a smartass."

            "Perhaps both?"

            She snorted. "All right. Thanks, smartass."

            "You're very welcome."

            Hoping to surprise him again, she began a barrage of punches aimed straight for his nose, but he just leaned back and out of the way. A jab at his chest; he knocked it aside with his elbow. A kick at his knee; he blocked with a kick of his own, nearly making her topple over when his strong foot connected with her calf. And then she got an idea.

            "Ow!" she cried, doubling over and grabbing her leg where his kick had landed.

            "Eve?" Instantly Connor dropped his fists, moving forward and resting his gloved hands on her arms. His brown eyes brimmed with concern. "Did I hurt yo—"

            BAM!

            The android gasped in shock as Eve struck him solidly under the chin, knocking him backwards. He went sprawling to the ground, blinking rapidly, LED flashing red.

            Eve appeared above him, smirking. "You okay, Con?"

            Slowly, the RK800 reached up, touching his lower jaw. It ached. She hadn't hit him really hard or anything—you weren't supposed to hit hard, in sparring—but he'd never felt pain before, besides the slight discomfort he'd felt when Eve had hugged him so tightly the other day.

            "That was rude," Connor said in a neutral tone, still looking dazed.

            She snorted a laugh, giggling behind a hand. "Sorry. But you were all high-and-mighty, saying I didn't stand a chance against you. Had to prove you wrong."

            "That was hardly proving me wrong, considering you had to employ such an underhanded tactic in order to beat me." Connor began to get to his feet, taking Eve's hand when she offered it.

            "I still landed a punch. Go me." She leaned up on her toes, rubbing her nose against Connor's. "I'm awesome."

            "Tch."

            Both the human and non-human detective looked up, as a low scoff sounded from across the room. None other than Gavin Reed was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, lips turned down in a scowl.

            Eve frowned. She'd only been working at this particular precinct for a few months, but even she knew Gavin—or rather, she knew Gavin's reputation. His cruel nature, tasteless humor, general assholeishness, and of course, his passionate hatred for androids.

            "Hello, Detective Reed," Connor greeted, at the same time that Eve said, "The hell do you want, Gavin?"

            "Uh, ignoring the fact that you're banging a robot..." Gavin lifted a finger, scratching at the scruff on his cheek. "I bet you twenty bucks I could kick his ass with both hands tied behind my back. Let me give it a try."

            "Fuck off," Eve spat. "He's got better things to do than play your stupid little games." Glancing sideways at her boyfriend, she assumed Connor's LED was cycling yellow because he was debating how to respond to Reed. Which was partially true, but most of his attention was actually directed towards Gavin's first statement.

Search term: bang (verb)

strike or put down (something) forcefully and noisily, typically in anger or in order to attract attention.

(!) Definition does not match with the context

            "What, is he scared?" Pushing off of the doorframe with his foot, Gavin swaggered his way into the room, lifting his hands to crack his knuckles. "You scared of me, tin can?"

            Eve stepped in front of Connor, making herself a barrier between the two male detectives. "Hasn't he already kicked your sorry ass once before?"

            "Excuse me?"

            "In the archive room. Yeah, jackass, he's told me that story. How he knocked you the fuck out."

            "Eve," Connor scolded, LED finally circling back to blue.

            "Why you little bitch..." Gavin took a threatening step forward, and then all of a sudden, Connor was in front of Evelyn, pushing firmly backwards on Gavin's chest. Eve actually did a double take. Did he just fucking teleport?! Holy shit this android was fast.

            "If I spar with you, will you leave us alone after we're finished?" Connor asked. That made Eve's eyes widen in alarm.

            "Connor, don't," she insisted, grabbing his arm. "You don't have to prove anything to this douche. And you know he's not going to spar with you. He's going to really try to hurt you."

            "Uh, I'm right here," Gavin deadpanned.

            Connor reached up, resting a reassuring hand on her arm. "Don't worry," he murmured. "Everything will be okay." Then, turning back to the sour detective, he asked again, "Detective Reed?"

            "Yeah, whatever. I'll beat it after we spar."

            "All right." Connor held out a hand, and reluctantly Evelyn tugged off her gloves, handing them over. He offered them to Gavin, who took them with a smirk. There was a decidedly malicious glint in those grey eyes.

            "Break him, and I'll break you," Eve warned, backing up to give the two men some space. "Not that I think you'll have much of a chance."

            "Yeah, yeah, shut up, little miss I'm Fucking An Android."

            Gavin raised his fists. The blank expression on Connor's face was a stark contrast to Gavin's mocking grin, as the two sized each other up for a few long-held moments.

            "Jesus, Reed, he's like six inches taller than you, are you trying to die?" Eve quipped.

            Ignoring her, Gavin suddenly swung, Connor swaying out of the way. But unlike Evelyn, Gavin didn't give the android a second to breathe (metaphorically speaking), swinging again and again with full strength, until the two of them were nothing but a blur of movement. Eve brought her hands up to her mouth, curling them into worried fists.

            The sound of blows connecting and Gavin's progressively heavier breathing echoed throughout the training room, as Connor blocked and dodged every kick, hit and jab the human threw at him. As worried as Eve was (she was pretty sure his plastimetal frame was going to crack if one of Gavin's punches landed), it was fascinating to watch them fight, Gavin's face growing red with exertion as time went on while Connor's face remained as blank as a statue's, Gavin's wild and untamed movements juxtaposed with Connor's ease and grace.

            "Ung, c'mon, plastic bastard," Gavin panted, as the android dodged yet another of his punches. "Fight back! Go on, hit me, you pussy!"

            "I'd prefer to stay on the defense, if you don't mind."

            "Candyass robot," Gavin sneered. He dove for Connor's middle with a grunt, trying to tackle the other man to the ground, but instead was caught under the shoulders and tossed aside. He nearly went toppling into one of the benchpresses. "Too scared, huh? Know you'll never win? Just as much of a coward as your sorry excuse for a girlfriend?"

            Eve just rolled her eyes. Even if she hadn't known Gavin was trying to provoke Connor, she wouldn't have wasted her anger on him.

            "You're one of the worst fuckin' cops this place's ever seen, which is saying something considering Anderson works here," Gavin spat at him, a wildly vindictive glint in his eyes. "Figures you'd get with someone just as talentless. I haven't seen her solve a single goddamn case since she's been here."

            Connor sighed through his nose, but stayed silent.

            "You three have got to be the most worthless detectives on the entire fucking planet. A little girl, a robot, and a washed-up alcoholic. It's a miracle you manage to get anything done." Gavin grunted as Connor grabbed his leg mid-kick and pushed it away, the human tumbling to the floor. He scrambled back to his feet with a snarl. "I'd watch myself if I were you," he snapped. "Pretty face like hers, God knows how many men she's slept with. Might wanna connect your robo-brain to her phone, check to make sure she isn't fucking other guys behind your—guh!"

            Eve's eyebrows shot up as suddenly Connor's fist flew into Gavin's stomach, knocking the human back a solid five feet. Gavin hit the floor with a groan, gasping for breath like a fish out of water.

            Connor straightened his tie.

            "I think we're finished now, Detective Reed." Connor tugged off his boxing gloves and settled them on a nearby chest press. "Eve?"

            Evelyn couldn't hold down her proud smile as she moved forward to take Connor's hand. Gavin was still too dazed to speak, clutching at his stomach and wheezing.

            "How did someone that stupid get a job as a detective?" Eve snorted, as the training room door swung shut behind them.

            The side of Connor's mouth curved. "It's beyond me."

            That made her laugh—but only for a moment. Then, a serious look overcame her features, shadowing her eyes. "Hey, you're okay, right? None of that crap he said got to you, did it?"

            "Of course not," Connor assured her. "The majority of what he said were lies, anyway. I know you've solved cases since you've been here, for one."

            Eve nodded softly. "And everyone knows you and Hank are some of the best detectives in the DPD. Besides, you told me Hank's been getting better about not drinking so much."

            "Correct."

            "Hey, speaking of drinking..." Eve led the way into the break room, heading to the fridge to retrieve her lunch. "That list they gave you, with all your new upgrades. Didn't it say 'inebriation' on there?"

            "Yes, it did."

            "Why don't we go have a few drinks after work? Just a few," she insisted, when Connor frowned. "Drinking isn't bad if you only do it occasionally. You deserve to relax after that bullshit, anyway."

            Connor pressed his lips together, LED flashing yellow. But, eventually, he gave a sigh of defeat.

            "All right. I'll have drinks with you, on one condition."

            "Yeah?"

            "You let me pay."

            "Oh, fuck you."

Chapter Text

            "Lieutenant, are you sure you're up for being the designated driver?"

            "Oh my God, Connor, for the hundreth fuckin' time, I promise I won't get drunk."

            Eve snickered at them. "For having a father-son relationship, you two sure argue like a married couple. Ow! Did you just elbow me?!"

            "No," Connor said innocently, but the side of his mouth was quirked up just slightly.

            "That's my boy," Hank muttered under his breath, too low for Eve to hear. But Connor, with his advanced audio processors and the fact that he was walking directly beside Hank, did catch the words, and a warm smile tugged at his lips.

            "You sure Jimmy's Bar is the best place to go?" Eve asked, her face growing serious. "I know that bar had an anti-android policy before the revolution."

            "Mm, and that's why if anyone says anything to Connor, I'll knock their fucking lights out," Hank said casually. "Jimmy makes the best cocktails this side of Michigan. I want Connor's first drink to be a damn good one. So he can shut his ass up and mix cocktails for us, or he'll have to answer to me."

            "Wow, your dad is protective," Eve said in Connor's direction.

            "Evelyn I swear to God, I will end you."

            "Try it, old man."

            Connor hummed to himself. "I will never understand why humans argue and insult one another to show affection."

            "Connor, I'll end you too."

            "I'm sure you will, Lieutenant."

            Evelyn laughed at Connor's neutral tone contrasted with the sassy words. There was honestly no one she'd rather spend her time with, than this unconventional father-son duo.

            Finally, the three of them turned off of the sidewalk and onto the premises of Jimmy's Bar, their idle chatter swallowed up by the sounds of the bustling city as they made their way towards the front door. But then, Connor suddenly stopped a few feet away from the door, his vague smile dropping into its usual poker-face and his LED cycling yellow.

            Both Hank and Eve were several steps ahead before they realized the android had stopped. In unison they turned to look back, Hank with his brows lifted and Eve with a concerned frown.

            The "NO ANDROIDS ALLOWED" sign on the door had been taken down, of course—android/human segregation was outlawed under the new civil rights laws. But now, in the place where the sign had been, there was graffiti, words scrawled in black ink: KEEP OUT, PLASTIC FUCKS.

            Connor slowly lifted a hand, touching his LED. He glanced down at himself, at his model and serial number displayed in bright white letters across his breast, at the parts of his jacket that glowed a vibrant blue, marking him as an android. His brows furrowed ever so slightly, something that would be unnoticeable to the average onlooker.

            "Con?" Eve asked softly. Slowly, she moved to his side, placing a hand under his elbow. "...You wanna grab a hat and a different jacket before we go in there? Hank has to go get the car from the mall parking lot eventually, anyway. You could give him some money to get you some clothes." She looked back at Hank, who nodded silently in affirmation.

            Connor lowered his head. "No," he replied quietly; Eve was surprised to hear the firmness in his tone. "No, there's a reason I continue to wear my uniform, and a reason why I haven't removed my LED." He looked at Eve, the soft contours of his face hardening. "I'm not ashamed of what I am."

            He lifted a hand, staring down at it as the synthetic skin pulled away up to his wrist, revealing the white plastimetal underneath.

            "...I am an android." He looked up at his girlfriend and his father figure. "But I am alive. We shouldn't have to hide our identity because of human prejudice."

            "Oh, Connor," Eve breathed, icy blue eyes softening. He looked into her face, jaw clenched with determination.

            She wasn't sure what drove her to do it, but she found herself moving forward, brushing her fingers against Connor's. Instead of the soft and slightly warm artificial skin she was used to, she was met with cool, hard plastic, Connor blinking down into her face with surprise. Slowly, he shifted his hand, pressing his palm to hers and lining up their fingers.

            She looked up from his hand to his chocolate eyes, and he looked back, not saying a word. Unbeknownst to both of them, Connor's palm, his knuckles, and the tips of his fingers started to glow a soft blue; Eve felt his circuitry begin to thrum against her skin, a low, gentle vibrating like the purr of a cat.

            "Uh, I hate to break up this sickeningly sweet romance," Hank started, both Connor and Eve jerking apart from each other as his voice cut through the silence. "But it's like 30 degrees out here, soooo, maybe you can make googly eyes at each other inside the bar?"

            Connor cleared his throat quietly, reactivating his skin as he reached up to straighten his tie. "Sorry, Lieutenant." Offering Eve his arm, she looped her elbow through his, and together they followed the older detective through the door.

            The bar's low jazz music met Connor's ears, the sight of the modest little bar triggering his memory banks.

            "Shit, I thought androids weren't allowed in here."

            "Lieutenant Anderson? My name is Connor. I'm the android sent by CyberLife. I looked for you at the station, but no one knew where you were."

            "Well I don't need any assistance. 'Specially not from a plastic asshole like you."

            "You know what? I'll buy you one for the road. Bartender, the same again, please."

            "See that, Jim? Wonders of technology."

            Connor shook his head to clear it, blinking away the fragments of memory. Jimmy, standing behind the bar wiping a glass, looked up and frowned in confusion at the sight of Hank with Connor trailing behind him.

            "Do you have to bring that thing in with you?" the bartender asked, as the three of them approached the counter.

            "Jim, do me a favor. Shut the fuck up, and get me the usual." Hank sat down at the bar, motioning for Connor to do the same when he hesitated. Eve sat beside him, sandwiching the android between the two humans.

            Jimmy tilted his head, clearly baffled (and annoyed), but did what Hank asked, placing a glass of scotch on the counter and accepting the bill that Hank offered. "Don't you hate androids? Like... a lot?"

            "I did. Then this brat walked into my life." Hank nudged Connor's arm. "Just, know that I changed my mind, all right? So stop with the calling him a thing shit and complaining about the anti-segregation laws. I don't want to have to knock your ass out for talking shit about my partner."

            "Jesus," Jimmy lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender, "I was just asking." Shaking his head and muttering to himself, the bartender walked off and disappeared into the back room.          

            "What a shithead," Eve muttered.

            Connor rested his elbows on the counter and leaned forward, getting comfortable. "It's all right, Eve. There's no need to be angry. I'm not bothered." He looked at the wall behind the bar, frowning at all of the different bottles lining the shelves. "What drink should I get?"

            Hank pursed his lips, then turned to face Connor, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Well, why don't you try a sip of this? Maybe you like Black Lamb as much as I do." He pushed his glass of scotch across the bartop.

            Connor looked down at it for a moment before picking up the glass. He lifted it to his nose, taking a sniff, before finally pressing the rim to his lips and tilting it back. As soon as the liquid hit his tongue, however, the android choked, practically dropping the glass back to the countertop as he doubled over, coughing.

            Hank roared with laughter.

Processing...

BLACK LAMB - scotch whisky

40% alcohol content

            "Holy shit, Hank, you nearly killed him." Eve slapped Connor on the back as the android wheezed, LED circling yellow.

            "That... was strong," he managed at last, wiping his mouth; most of the scotch had ended up dribbling down his chin. "I think—I think I would prefer something with less alcohol content."

            Hank was still snickering too much to speak, shoulders shaking with laughter as he rested his forehead in a hand, reaching with his other to reclaim his glass of scotch.

            "That was mean," Eve scolded, still patting Connor's back.

            "All right, all right," Hank chuckled, waving his hand at Eve as if to fend her off. He glanced up as Jimmy returned from the back room. "Here, how about this. Hey, Jim? Give the kid a Cape Codder. But make it with one of the weaker vodkas."

            Connor tilted his head.

Search term: cape codder

A type of cocktail consisting of vodka and cranberry juice.

            "Sounds intriguing," he mused, resting his chin on the back of his hand. "You think I'll like it?"

            "I got a feeling. But if you don't, I'll give you your money back."

            "That isn't necessary..." Connor reached into his jacket and handed Jimmy a bill, murmuring a thank-you as the bartender sat his drink on the counter. "But thank you for the offer."

            "Yeah, yeah, try your goddamn drink."

            Connor picked up the glass, staring down at the bright red drink, decorated with a slice of lime. After having a sip of Hank's scotch, he was reluctant to try any more alcoholic beverages, but, it smelled sweet, and Connor did like sweet things. So, he brought the glass to his mouth. Eve and Hank both watched as he took a slow sip.

Processing...

Vodka and cranberry juice

25% alcohol content

            "Ah..." He lowered the cup, looking at it in surprise. "I think I like this."

            Hank grinned. "Told ya, kid. I had a feelin' you'd be into those fruity drinks. Bet you'd like wine, too."

            "Perhaps I should try some of that tonight, as well."

            Eve smiled, and rested a hand on Connor's knee. He turned to face her as he took another sip.

            "Well, Hank's the designated driver, so you just let loose and enjoy yourself, Con. Try a bunch of drinks. Oooh, Hank, he should try a piña colada."

            "I second that. Maybe a screwdriver, too."

            Connor had a feeling he wasn't going to remember much in the morning.

oXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo

            Three cranberry vodkas (and god-knows-how many other types of cocktails he'd bought for the sake of tasting different varieties) later, Connor was starting to look pretty disheveled. Eve found it interesting, the way Connor's face flushed a bright blue as more and more alcohol processed through his system, just like how a drunk human would flush red. His LED pulsed a slow, calm blue at his temple as he leaned over the countertop, blinking rapidly and giving a hiccup.

            "You holding up okay? You've had like, ten drinks," Eve asked, sipping at her own glass of wine. She was pretty tipsy herself, but even though Connor was a rather subdued drunk, she could tell he was absolutely hammered.

            "Yes. Yes, I'm fine," he mumbled out, eyes flickering back up to the shelf behind the bar. "What do I try next?"

            "Uh, I think you've tried enough. If you were a human, I'd be worried that you might have alcohol poisoning."

            "But I want to try more. They're very good." He picked up his drink (a cherry sangria) and downed the rest of it, giving a soft cough and another hiccup after he finished. He tilted his head back, eyes fluttering closed. "I like this feeling."

            "Uh-huh. I'm glad you're having fun."

            "Eve, I like this feeling a lot."

            "Yeah, honey, you already said that."

            Hank, having abandoned his attention on the Detroit Gears game playing on the bar's TV, seriously wished he had some popcorn.

            "Hmmm," the android hummed happily, opening his eyes, gazing up at the ceiling. "I see why humans do this."

            "You're gonna take that back when you wake up in the morning." Eve casually rested a hand on his back; the way he was leaning with his head tilted back, she wanted to make certain he wouldn't fall right off his barstool. "I dunno how they programmed inebriation into you, but it's really effective. You look just like a human who had too much to drink."

            "Not too much. I want to try more."

            "Your face is as blue as the friggin sky, Connor, I don't think that's a good idea."

            He huffed with disappointment. Really, if Eve thought he was cute before (which she did), he was mind-blowingly adorable when he was drunk.

            "Eve~?"

            "Yeah, Con?" She turned to look at him again, and jesus, he seriously was so fucking cute. His perfect hair was starting to fall out of place, as he'd made no attempt to fix it over the last few hours, and his brows were lowered in an expression of utter relaxation, a warm smile on his lips.

            He took her hand, artificial skin drawing away once more, and Eve blinked, looking down at his hand as the plastimetal of his knuckles glowed blue. He leaned in, nuzzling his nose into the spot just below her ear.

            "I love you, Eve," he murmured, hiccuping a little at the end. "I think I do, anyway. I don't know what love feels like. But I imagine it feels like this."

            The young human went stiff all over. Somewhere in the background, she heard Hank chuckle in surprise and mutter a soft "oh, fuck."

            "I, uh, oh," Eve said stupidly. Holy shit. Holy shit, she was not ready for this. "Connor, you're drunk."

            "I'm aware."

            "I don't—Connor, honey, I don't think you'd be saying this if you were sober. I don't want you to be embarrassed about it in the morning."

            "It's okay if you don't love me back." He laced his fingers with hers and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. "I'm just happy to be your boyfriend, Eve. You make me feel alive."

            "No, that's not what I—goddammit, Connor..."

            "Okay, well, it's getting late," Hank interjected, sensing that he needed to defuse the situation. "Lemme go get the car so I can take you two home."

            "But I'm having fun, Hank," Connor protested lightly, head lolling to look at the lieutenant lazily. "My internal clock says that it's only..." There was a long pause. "...I'm unable to check my internal clock, never mind."

            "Christ, he's plastered," Hank snorted. "It's nearly midnight, kid."

            "Oh."

            "Go get the car," Eve waved her hand at Hank, "I'll take care of him."

            Hank nodded and stood up from the bar, giving Connor a friendly pat on the shoulder as he moved past him and toward the entrance.

            Connor hummed again, resting his weight against Eve's shoulder, and began tracing patterns into the palm of her hand. Even though he'd nearly killed her with that 'I love you', she really liked seeing him like this. She'd never seen him so relaxed, so open and free.

            "You're a cuddly drunk, I see," she murmured.

            "I suppose so."

            "You're cute like this, you know."

            "You always think I'm cute."

            She snorted. "You got me there." Leaning into him, she reached up and began carding her fingers tenderly through his dark hair, uncaring that she was only messing it up even more. Uncharacteristically, Connor didn't seem to care, either; he let out a happy sigh and nuzzled closer, tilting his head into her touch, like a cat being stroked.

            "I really care about you, Connor," she whispered to him, gazing down into that gentle face. "You know that, right? This relationship... I don't want you to think I'm in this just for the fun of it. I care for you, so much it scares me sometimes."

            He gave a slight nod of his head. "I know, Eve." He reached up with one hand, the plastimetal one (he had yet to reactivate his skin), and touched his fingertips to her cheek. "I've always known that."

            Slowly, she lifted her free hand and rested it over his, smoothing her thumb over the cool plastic. Oddly enough, she found that she liked the feel of it just as much as she liked the feel of his skin. Brown eyes met blue, and a loving silence stretched between them.

            "'Ey, lovebirds! Your ride is here!" And there was Hank, yelling at them from the doorway. Reluctantly, Eve moved to get up, Connor's arm falling back to his side as his artificial skin finally re-covered his hand.

            The android stood up out of his own seat—and promptly swayed sideways, thrown completely off balance. He would have faceplanted if it weren't for Eve grabbing him by the shoulder. "Whoa, whoa, take it easy!" She wrapped her arm around his waist, letting her lean his weight against him.

            "Sorry," he muttered with a hiccup. "My gyroscope isn't functioning properly."

            "Your what?"

            "My gyroscope. It's an internal device used for helping androids maintain their balance." He blinked a few times. "My thirium alcohol concentration is currently 0.23 grams per decilitre."

            "Your BAC is how high?!"

            "0.23 gr—"

            "No, I heard you, I just... Jesus. You'd probably be puking if you were human." She reached for Connor's arm, drawing it across her shoulders so he could lean on her better. "Think you can walk out of here?"

            "Yes. Thank you for helping."

            So, they began moving slowly and carefully towards the exit, drawing quite a few stares from the other patrons at the sight of an intoxicated android. Hank, leaning back against the front door and waiting for them, was snickering so hard he was trembling. It must've been a trip, Eve figured, seeing his flawlessly cool and composed android partner stumbling out of a bar.

            "All right, I'll take it from here, he's probably heavy." Hank moved forward to relieve Evelyn of her duty, pulling Connor's arm across his own shoulders. "I tell ya, Connor, I never would have expected to see you of all people, too drunk to walk on your own."

            "That's probably because androids can't get drunk. The inebriation program is unique to the experimental upgrades they equipped me with."

            Hank looked at Eve. "Sometimes I can't tell if he's being a smartass or if he's completely serious."

            Eve shrugged. "Beats me."

            With a grunt, Hank tugged open the car door and settled Connor in the backseat, patting his shoulder again before drawing away.

            "I'll sit in the back with him and make sure he doesn't die," Eve quipped, as Hank moved to get in the driver's seat.

            "Copy that." He turned the key in the ignition and flicked on the radio, heavy metal blasting into the car's interior.

            Eve shut Connor's door for him and walked around to the other side, sliding into the backseat and reaching over to buckle his seatbelt. He had his head tilted back against the seat, eyes hazed, face flushed blue all the way to his ears and down his neck.

            "You alive?" the blonde asked, touching his knee. He blinked, brown eyes swivelling to look at her, but not exactly focusing.

            "You would know if I was dead, Eve."

            "Oh my God, he's completely literal now." Evelyn shook her head in disbelief. "I'm pretty sure his social relations program already has some malfunctions, but I think the alcohol just completely turned it—off?!"

            Suddenly, the android was in her face, his hands grabbing her hips to tug her closer. Then, his mouth crashed into hers with an almost aggressive force, lips tasting of cherries.

            "Evelyn~" He sighed happily, pressing eager kisses to the corner of her mouth. "I'm so happy I have you."

            "The fuck is going on back there?" Hank, as he'd already begun to drive, couldn't turn around to check what the hell was happening in his backseat. He settled for glancing in the rearview mirror, and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "CONNOR! NOT IN MY GODDAMN CAR!"

            Eve wasn't sure if the android even heard him. His hand moved up to take hers, giving her fingers a loving squeeze as he pressed forward, and Eve downright flailed as suddenly his tongue was on her lips, sliding into her mouth. She was pretty sure her brain short-circuited, unable to do anything but sit there and let Connor have his way with her.

            And then she realized.

            "Connor!" She shoved back on his chest, a soft thump sounding as Connor's back hit the door. "Look, I like you a lot, but not enough for you to put that tongue in my mouth before you use some goddamn mouthwash. Fuck..."

            Connor blinked, looking dazed, dark strands of hair falling into his eyes. "Why?" he asked with innocent confusion.

            "You analyze blood by licking it, Connor."

            "Ah..." He tilted his head. "Alcohol kills germs. Actually, many brands of mouthwash contain alcohol for that purpose. My mouth is clean."

            "I don't give a shit," Hank exploded from the driver's seat, "if your mouth is clean or not, Connor, stop fuckin' making out with her in the backseat of my car!"

            The android blinked again. "May I make out with her in the front seat?"

            "NO."

            Evelyn had her face buried in her hands at this point.

            "Why does it matter that I'm kissing her in the car? I want to physically display the affection I'm feeling. I don't intend to engage in sexual intercourse in your presence."

            "Connor oh my God. Shut up." Eve kicked him in the leg. "Please shut up."

            "I'm sorry..." He sat back, a little frown of confusion on his lips.

            "No, don't... uuugh. Just." With an exasperated sigh, the female detective scooted over, wrapped her arms around his waist, and laid her head on his shoulder. "Don't be sad. You're just drunk. Just, hush, and let us get you home."

            Connor nuzzled his face into her hair. One arm slung lazily across her middle. "Okay, Eve."

            "Goddamn kids," Hank muttered from the driver's seat, shaking his head and pressing his foot on the gas.

            The sooner he got these idiots home, the better.

oXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo

            Connor woke to a visual field clouded with bright red warnings and error messages. He blinked a few times in confusion, trying to dismiss the alerts, but suddenly he was finding it very difficult to perform even the most basic of functions.

            Groaning, the RK800 attempted to sit up, only to have his head throb and the warnings to flash more insistently. He clapped a hand to his aching forehead, wincing.

            "...Hank...? Hank... I-I need help..."

            His voice came out dry and rough, much to his surprise. He swallowed and tried again to clear his vision.

            "Connor?" To his relief, he heard a voice, someone finally coming to help him. But it wasn't Hank's gruff baritone that registered in his audio processors. "Jesus, finally. I was starting to think you'd never wake up."

            "E-Evelyn?"

            "Yeah, hon, it's me." His lover's face appeared in his red, staticky visual field, big blue eyes full of concern. "How are you feeling?"

            Connor furrowed his brows, slowly turning his head to look around the room. This was definitely Hank's living room, he concluded, so why was Eve here?

            "Did... you sleep over again?"

            "No, I was just worried about you. I figured you'd have a bad hangover and shit. So I called Hank and asked if I could come see you this morning." The human sat herself down on the couch beside where Connor's head was resting, and placed a gentle hand on his forehead. "I've been here for a few hours. You were knocked out."

            The android swallowed again. He finally managed to dismiss the warnings blaring in his eyes, one hand slowly reaching up to rest over Eve's. "I can't... I can't check my internal clock. What time is it?"

            "A little after 1."

            "...O-one in the afternoon?" Never in his short lifetime had Connor ever woken up later than 9 o'clock. What on earth happened last night?

MEMORY CORRUPTION DETECTED.

            The RK model scowled and dismissed the new warning, shaking his head as he tried to remember. They... went out for drinks, he remembered that. At Jimmy's Bar. He'd tried a sip of Hank's scotch and practically spit it out. Then, Hank ordered him a cranberry vodka; that was really good. Connor wanted to try all kinds of different drinks, to see which he preferred best... He remembered ordering... five different varieties of alcohol? But he couldn't remember any further than the fifth drink, the error message popping up again if he tried.

            "Yeah, Con. You slept for ages. But I don't blame you, do you remember what you told me your BAC was last night?"

            "My... blood alcohol content?" Actually, thirium alcohol content was a more accurate term for an android, but he didn't bother correcting her. "No... what was it?"

            "0.23."

            Connor blinked exactly three times.

            "In the United States, a human is considered legally impaired when their BAC reaches 0.08 percent. 0.23 is... intense."

            "Uh, yeah. You couldn't walk out of the bar by yourself. I carried you out, and Hank carried you to the car."

            His cheeks went bright blue. Eve snorted at that reaction, reaching over to pat his hand.

            "Hey, don't look so embarrassed. We told you to have all the drinks you wanted. You seemed like you had a great time, so that's all that matters."

            Connor shook his head slowly, reaching up to grab his forehead again. "I'm not exactly having a good time now."

            "I can see that."

            Moving very gingerly, holding his head in one hand, the RK800 began to get to his feet. Much to his annoyance, it seemed his gyroscope hadn't quite recalibrated yet, and he overbalanced sideways, stumbling.

            "Connor! Holy shit, take it easy." Eve grabbed his elbow, steadying him. "Geez, I had to catch you last night, too, can't you just slow down?"

            He just ignored her, not having the mental energy to think up a witty comeback, instead lifting his eyes to gaze around the room. Eventually, his brown irises halted on the vase sitting on Hank's coffee table (Connor's doing; the vases were one of the ways he'd attempted to liven up the somewhat dreary old house). He squinted at it.

COMMON DAISIES

European

Bellis perennis

            Good; his basic scanning function seemed to be working, at the very least. That didn't make the pounding in his head any less irritating. Grimacing, Connor lifted his hand and pressed two fingers to his LED, about to just deactivate his simulated inebriation. But then he hesitated.

            "Con?"

            Finally, he lowered his hand without deactivating the program, and turned to look at Eve. "Yes?"

            "What were you doing there?"

            "...I was going to deactivate the program that simulates inebriation, since it's causing me such discomfort," he said. "...But... I changed my mind. This upgrade... it's meant to make me... more human. Humans can't press a button and turn off their hangovers." He met her eyes, biting down on his lip with a sort of determination. "So neither will I."

            Taken aback, Eve just stared at him for a moment, eyes wide. That... was unbearably attractive. She quickly looked away as she felt her own cheeks flush.

            "...I love that about you. How you want so badly to be human." Eve stood on her toes and gripped the lapels of his jacket in her fingers. "If there's anything I can do to help you feel more alive, just tell me. I'd... move mountains for you, you know."

            He blushed. "...Th-thank you, Eve."

            "Hey, Connor!" Hank poked his head into the living room doorway. "Nice, you're not dead. Was starting to worry. I got somethin' in here for you, come on."

            The android lifted an eyebrow, but obeyed, holding the side of his head as he shuffled his way towards the kitchen. Eve followed beside him with a comforting hand on his back.

            In the kitchen, Connor found a steaming mug of tea on Hank's small dining table. The RK model tilted his head in puzzlement, turning to give the lieutenant a bemused look.

            "Ginger tea with honey." Hank nodded his head towards the mug. "Best hangover cure out there."

            Connor's brows furrowed. "...Lieutenant, I don't believe my simulated inebriation is that advanced... I doubt a 'hangover cure' would work on an android."

            "Never know until you try it, right?"

            "Actually—"

            "Connor, shut up and drink it."

            The RK800 gave him a look that was somewhere between "are you serious right now?" and "look at the bullshit I have to deal with," before moving to sit in the chair, cupping the mug in his hands and lifting it to his lips.

            "So, Con," Evelyn tossed herself into the chair next to him, "you still think drinking until you're brain-dead is super fun?"

            "I don't intend to ever do that again, if that's what you're asking."

            Hank snorted at them, and sat down on Connor's other side, leaning back and crossing his arms. "Good. Don't want you taking after me. People do things they regret when they're really drunk. I know I've done things I regret."

            "Mm..." was all Connor said in response, hiding the slight twitch of emotion at his mouth behind his cup. Eve looked between them, sympathy filling her ice-blue eyes. There was a moment of silence.

            "Oh by the way, while you were wasted, you started passionately making out with Eve in the backseat of my car."

            Connor spat out an entire mouthful of tea all over the table.

Chapter Text

            Connor was growing quite popular at the precinct.

            Those sympathetic towards androids admired him, for both his skills as a detective and for his calm and gentle personality. Those indifferent to the deviant cause were swayed by his level-headedness and eager-to-please nature, the fact that the RK800 was always there to lend a hand in the smallest of favors. Even those who hated androids were beginning to admit, albeit grudgingly, that he was a great asset to the DPD, a flawless investigator able to reconstruct exactly what happened at the scene of a crime.

            And then there was Gavin Reed.

            One of the select few who still showed unrelenting aggression towards Connor, Gavin did not believe that the addition of a detective android was good for the DPD, the precinct, or even the homicide division. How did the other officers not see where this was going? Androids in the work force had very simple programming, initially—functioning as clerks and cashiers, unskilled laborers. But then, they began taking over as schoolteachers, university professors, doctors, nurses, surgeons, their programming becoming more and more advanced.

            And now? Now, here was CyberLife's most advanced model yet, a detective. Able to do all sorts of things, like analyze samples of evidence in real time, detect fingerprints without imaging systems or fingerprint powders, know the time and cause of death by simply looking at a corpse. With skills like that, what use was there for human detectives? No criminal would ever go free again, if every investigator was an android.

            It was only a matter of time before the DPD realized that.

            It would start in Detroit and spread across the country, just like the invention of android teachers or doctors. Oh, sure, the android production facilities were now under the deviants' control, but that wasn't about to change anything. If America's police force requested a line of investigative androids, the deviants would comply. The country relied on androids now. They were integral to American society. Androids would still be produced for the purpose of doing tasks, like gardening or building or cooking. The only change would be the workers' rights they were given.

            Connor was the beginning of the end. One highly-effective android investigator would soon turn into many, and every human officer who praised that damn piece of plastic for a job well done would be out on the streets.

            Gavin couldn't let that happen.

oXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo

            "Hey, hon." Connor felt a pair of familiar arms wrap around his torso. He turned his head to smile back at Eve, standing behind his chair. "I'm heading out, my shift's over. You doin' overtime again?"

            "I wouldn't call it overtime," the android replied, one hand coming up to rub his eyes. He was now on the 20th hour he'd spent outside of sleep mode, and his simulated-tiredness had switched on hours ago. "I'm determined to finish this paperwork before I leave. I know I can do it. So I'd prefer to stay until I'm done."

            "Geez, Hank was right, you do work too hard..." She peeked over his shoulder at his terminal. "That's a lot of paperwork, you might be here awhile. You sure you wanna stay?"

            "I'll be fine, Eve."

            "Well... if you're sure. Hey, you want to come over to my place tomorrow night? We can put a movie on and order pizza."

            "I'd love to."

            "Great!" Leaning down, the human kissed the top of his head. "Take care of yourself. I'll see you tomorrow."

            "Goodnight, Eve."

            "'Night, Con."

            As Eve headed for the exit, Connor turned back to his terminal, trying to blink the bleariness from his eyes. There were warnings beginning to pop up in the corner of his visual field, telling him that spending so long outside of sleep mode was impacting his ability to function, and urging him to either rest or to deactivate his simulated sleep/wake cycle.

            He did neither, dismissing the alerts and leaning in close to the computer screen. This was a strange and definitely unpleasant sensation—feeling heavy all over, eyes burning, central processing unit moving at a sluggish pace—but he could deal with it. Humans stayed up all the time, so it obviously wasn't as big a deal as his systems were trying to tell him it was.

            So the RK model continued to work, the precinct slowly emptying around him as his fellow officers finished their shifts and headed home. 20 hours outside of sleep mode became 21, and then 22, and then he lost track of the passage of time, staring dead-eyed at his terminal and yawning at frequent intervals.

Detroit Police Department

January 27, 2039, 22:00 hours

Subject: Homicide at 3341 Trinity Street

Preliminary report of RK800 android Detective Connor

Report #06-8281

The victim, identified as 53-year-old Holly Williams, was found dead in her apartment—

            Apartment? No, she lived in a house. Connor tapped the backspace.

was found dead in her home by her daughter at 6:26 hours on January 26, 2038—

            2039, dammit. It was the new year now.

on January 26, 2039. Detective Chris Miller was the first officer on the scene—

            Officer Miller, not Detective Miller. Connor groaned out loud, pressing the palms of his hands over his eyes. This was going nowhere fast. He never made mistakes, even small ones like these. He was literally programmed to not make mistakes.

            He rested his chin on his hands, arms propped up at the elbows.

            Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a few minutes, he'd be able to concentrate better.

            Yes, he thought, eyelids slowly fluttering shut, if I close them, just for a minute or two...

oXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo

            Gavin ended up being the last goddamn officer in the whole building. Everyone else had already clocked out, but not him, noooo. Fowler had threatened to write up a disciplinary warning if he didn't get his mile-high stack of paperwork done (metaphorically speaking of course, because did real paper even still exist nowadays?), and so here Gavin was, sitting in an empty precinct, sipping sullenly at a cup of black coffee.

            ...Or at least, he'd thought the precinct was empty.

            That was before he heard a loud thump sound from across the room. Taking his feet down from where he'd propped them up on the desk (fuck you, Fowler, can't do anything about it if you're not here), he spun around to look, eyes narrowing as he saw Connor with his face flat on his desk.

            He snorted to himself. "The fuck...?" Did the piece of scrap metal run out of batteries or something? He tilted his head, watching the android for a few seconds with a sort of incredulous confusion. Well, his LED was circling yellow, so he wasn't dead.

            Unfortunate, that was. He'd love to see the plastic bastard deactivated. Even if he had to take it into his own hands, he'd do anything to see Connor shut down for—

            Gavin froze.

            ...Perhaps...

            Perhaps this was his opportunity to take it into his own hands...

oXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo

            Connor came to with a start, as his terminal suddenly gave a loud beep. Blinking through blurry eyes, he read the text on the screen: Monitor not in use for 30 minutes. Powering down...

            Connor blinked. Thirty minutes...?

            Checking his internal clock, he was startled to realize that the message onscreen was right. He'd been asleep for half an hour. More than that, he'd been asleep. He'd actually fallen asleep on his desk at work.

            "Shit," he muttered under his breath, quickly standing up and glancing around. Luckily, the precinct appeared to be totally empty now, save for the android guards of course. He blew out a breath of relief. No one had seen him pass out. God, that was embarrassing, and Connor didn't really embarrass easily.

            He reached to power down his terminal completely, then grabbed up his coat, throwing it around his shoulders. He was out of here, screw the paperwork. He could finish it in the morning. Clearly, he'd underestimated the power of sleep deprivation, and if he had actually just passed out in public, it was probably a good idea to go home and rest as soon as possible.

            However, as he started to button his coat, he suddenly noticed something. Something was off about his shirt.

            His tie was missing.

            Connor blinked several times, confirming that his optical units weren't lying to him. What on earth...? How had his tie vanished? It definitely wasn't something that could just fall off, and he had no memory of taking it off. He glanced around the room once more, completely and totally baffled.

WARNING: LOW FUNCTIONALITY.

CAUSE: LENGTH OF TIME OUTSIDE SLEEP MODE.

SUGGESTED ACTION: ANSWER SLEEP MODE PROTOCOL OR DEACTIVATE SLEEP MODE PROGRAM.

            Whatever, he'd figure it out later. Right now, he needed to get himself home and into bed. Turning on his heel, Connor's LED flashed yellow as he called for a taxi, his footfalls the only sound in the deserted precinct as he headed for the door.

            He always had spare ties at home, after all.

oXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo

            On February 1st, a possible murder was reported to the DPD around 8 AM. Hank and Connor were assigned the case around 1 PM, after the preliminary investigation, and naturally, the RK model made sure they picked up the case immediately and headed for the scene of the crime. It was at a house on the outskirts of Detroit, which led to Hank complaining (a lot) about the long car ride on icy roads.

            The victim was a man appearing to be in his 30s, as they'd learned from the preliminary, and appeared to have been killed via a bullet to the heart. The victim was presumed to be Darrell Bachman, as that was the name they had on file for this residence, but they hadn't confirmed it yet.

            Connor knelt beside the body of the man, listening distantly to the briefing that Gavin (he'd been the first officer on the scene, unfortunately) was giving Hank. Connor's LED flickered yellow as he began his analysis, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

DECEASED - Bachman, Darrell

Height: 5'10"

Weight: 201.4 lbs

Estimated time of death: 3:15 AM

            His eyes flicked down to Bachman's chest and abdomen, finding a total of five bullet wounds, including the fatal bullet through the heart.

9mm BULLET WOUND

Heart trauma

Upper right lung hemorrhage

Lower left lung hemorrhage

Liver perforated

Gastrointestinal bleeding

            Standing up, Connor next moved to the gun lying on the floor a few feet away. Hank walked up beside him, rubbing his chin.

GLOCK 19

Capacity: 15 rounds (9mm)

Overall: 4.02in / Barrel

Police department standard issue

NO FINGERPRINTS

            "There are no fingerprints on the gun," he told Hank.

            "Really? Think it was an android, or was the killer wearing gloves?"

            "I'm not sure. There aren't any traces of blue blood in this room." Connor studied the pistol a moment longer. "This is one of our guns."

            "Yeah, I noticed it's a glock. Doesn't mean it was a police officer that killed him."

            "No, Lieutenant." Connor levelled serious brown eyes on calm blues. "I mean my analysis says that this is a police-issue glock, not a regular glock."

            "Oh shit, really? Jesus, how does your scanner even tell the difference? They're the same fuckin' gun." The lieutenant folded his arms, frowning down at the pistol. "So it was one of our own... Fuuuck..."

            "Most likely."

            Connor stood again, taking a step back. He studied the scene with calculating eyes, looking at the body, the weapon, the broken window and shards of glass that littered the floor.

Reconstructing...

            Bright white outlines sprung into Connor's field of view, time freezing around him as he put together what happened. There was a spilled glass of wine near the couch.

Victim was sitting on the couch when the intruder broke the window.

            Across the room, a drawer was open, a small handgun sitting inside. Bachman's fingerprints were on it, though they weren't recent.

Victim attempted to grab a weapon to defend himself.

            Some shards of glass on the floor were more crushed than others, suggesting that they'd been stepped on.

Killer entered the house through the broken window.

            There was a slight dent on the coffee table, invisible to the human eye, that indicated Bachman had fallen and hit his head on the way down.

Victim was shot before he could reach his weapon.

            And then...

Reconstruction incomplete.

            Connor furrowed his brows.

            "What?" Hank asked, catching the perturbed look on his partner's face.

            "Something's missing here," the android muttered, looking between the body, the window, and the gun on the floor. "The murder weapon... I can't figure out where it came from. The murderer entered the house through the window and shot the victim dead. But according to my reconstruction, the murderer didn't drop the gun before he left the house." Connor looked up at Hank. "Which makes logical sense, as well. Why would he leave behind evidence? There was no one around, so he couldn't have dropped it in a rush."

            "Or," Gavin cut in from where he was leaning against the wall by the door, "your dumb reconstruction program could just be whack. How can you know everything that happened like you were there? Doesn't make sense."

            "Gavin, shut your mouth," Hank warned. Turning back to Connor, he said, "Look around some more, maybe you'll figure it out. You might not have all the pieces of the puzzle."

            "...I suppose..." Connor reached into his jacket, pulling out his quarter and beginning to flick it from hand to hand as he thought. Hank gave his shoulder a reassuring pat, then moved away to investigate the next room.

            "Heh. Is the detective robot stumped?" Gavin drawled. "Guess you aren't a flawless super-computer after all."

            Connor completely ignored him, much to the human's annoyance. Slowly and carefully, he swept his eyes over the room, shoes clicking softly against the hardwood floor as he started to pace. His quarter flicked back and forth, back and forth, then up and down, rising and falling back into his hand in a perfect vertical line.

            "Androids are such fuckin' showoffs," Gavin remarked.

            Suddenly, Connor's eyes stopped on a dark shape under a nearby end table. In the dim lighting of the room, he couldn't tell what it was exactly. It could've been nothing, a random object unrelated to the crime, but he went to check anyway, crossing the room and kneeling to reach beneath the little table.

            His hand reappeared holding a shiny black tie. He tilted his head, brows knitting together yet again. Turning it over in his hand, his suspicions were confirmed; on the back of the tie, at the bottom, was a small white CyberLife logo.

            "Lieutenant! I think you should take a look at this."

            "Comin'!"

            Connor stood, the tie still clutched in his hand, a curious look on his expression. He glanced up as Hank appeared at his side.

            "What's up, kid?"

            He held up the article of clothing. "This tie belonged to an android. It has the CyberLife logo on the back."

            "Oh?" Hank squinted at it. "Ohhh, yeah. It looks just like your tie does. Shiny little diamond shapes."

            "Correct." Connor lowered his hand again, studying. "Bachman didn't live with any androids, did he? Perhaps a model he purchased that chose to stay with him after the revolution?"

            Hank looked back at Gavin, who shook his head. "Not that we know of."

            Connor nodded slowly. "There are only a few models of androids that wear ties as part of their uniform. It could be a VS400, or possibly—ah, wait." Looking closer, he could see a few short, thin strands of hair clinging to the tie. "There are hairs here. I might be able to identify which model they came from."

            "Nice. Go for it."

            The android carefully plucked a hair away from the cloth and held it up to the light. Hank watched his LED spin yellow as he analyzed it.

SYNTHETIC HAIR

Model: RK800 prototype

            Connor dropped the tie.

            "Woah! You okay?" Hank bent down to retrieve it. "Since when are you clumsy? Did you find out what model it is?"

            Connor didn't seem to even hear him. "Fuck," he hissed under his breath.

            Hank about jumped out of his goddamn skin. He'd heard Connor swear less times than he could count on one hand, and never in his entire time knowing him had Hank heard him drop the F-bomb.

            Something was very, very, very wrong.

            "Connor?!" Hank leaned in close to him, clasping a hand on his shoulder. "Connor, what's wrong?"

            "I—" the android fumbled, and that was even more alarming. Connor rarely stuttered. "I—Not here. Outside."

            "What? What's going o—"

            "Hey!" Gavin's voice suddenly rang out, and oh, great, now he was coming over here. "What model was it, asshole? You never said."

            "Hank, outside, now," Connor said firmly. Hank could've sworn he caught the slightest tremor in Connor's hands.

            "Whoa whoa whoa whoa, you aren't going anywhere," Gavin growled, moving to block him.

            "Gavin," Hank snapped back, now going into full-blown paternal-instinct mode. Connor was distressed, and Connor was never distressed. "Move aside."

            The younger detective didn't move. "Fuck no, he's obviously withholding information! I ain't moving until—"

            "Move your ass before I move it for you," the lieutenant snarled, grabbing Gavin by the front of his shirt.

            His hands flew up in surrender, "Shit, fine, okay!" When Hank let go of him, he grudgingly stepped aside. That didn't stop him from getting one last remark in, however. "But I'm fuckin' reporting him if he doesn't fess up."

            "Yeah, yeah, go jump off a fucking bridge." Hank settled a protective hand on Connor's shoulder and steered him outside. His LED was flashing red, and he looked, well, shook.

            The officers that were standing around outside the house gave the duo a strange look, as Connor took Hank's arm and led him around to the side of the house, practically dragging him. He stopped, glancing around carefully to make sure they were in private, then turned to face Hank.

            "You're sweating," Hank said in bewilderment. He'd forgotten that was a part of the upgrades they'd installed.

            "Hank," Connor began, but then he hesitated. He took in a long, shaking breath. "I am currently the only active RK800 that exists."

            "...Yeah?" Hank furrowed his brows at the other male. "And?"

            "I was able to successfully analyze the hair. It was synthetic, and I identified the model it came from. I couldn't identify the serial number like I can with samples of Thirium, but that doesn't matter, because there's only one android it could have came from." Connor clenched his jaw. "The hair belonged to an RK800."

            Hank's eyes went round. He darted a glance over his shoulder, then back to Connor. "Holy fucking shit."

            Honestly, that statement described Connor's current mood perfectly.

            "You're sure you're the only RK800 there is? What about the motherfucker that took me hostage? He's dead, but couldn't they have sent out others?"

            "No. All of the other Connors were disassembled. After the revolution, it was concluded that the RK800 series was too much of a threat to android kind, because my model was programmed specifically to hunt deviants. I am the only exception because I myself deviated."

            "What if your scanner was just wrong?"

            "Hank," Connor grabbed his own tie with a surprising amount of aggression, "it was my tie. I doubt the scan was wrong."

            The human gave an exasperated huff of breath. "For fuck's sake, Connor, I know you didn't murder a guy in your sleep or some shit, so what other option is there? It has to be another RK800."

            Connor closed his eyes. "...No, Hank, I... I believe I was framed."

            Hank blinked. "Oh. Oh, fuck." He took a step back, turning away as he tried to process everything, dragging a hand down his face. However, when he looked back at Connor, the lieutenant just barely caught a rare twitch of emotion in his face.

            Fear.

            "Hey, hey..." Hank trotted forward again and grabbed Connor's shoulders, gently but firmly, looking down into scared brown eyes. "Don't panic. We're gonna sort this out. Nothing's gonna happen to you, son." He gave him a gentle shake. "All right?"

            The android's jaw clenched. "...Okay." There was no conviction in his voice; both he and Hank knew that he didn't believe him.

            Hank squeezed his shoulders lightly before letting go of him. "Okay. So." He blew out a long breath. "Whatever bastard it was that framed you—how the hell did they get strands of your hair?"

            Connor turned away, pressing a fist under his chin in thought. He looked so goddamn unsettled, it was making it hard for Hank to stay calm. Connor was always so cool and collected; he almost never showed it if he was upset. And now, there was obvious upset written all over the poor kid's face.

            "The same way that they got the tie," Connor breathed in realization. "It really is mine. The day when I fell asleep at work—do you remember when I came home and took off my coat, and you asked what happened to my tie?"

            Hank looked up from where he was watching television on his living room couch, as the sound of the front door being unlocked caught his attention.

            "'Bout time," he remarked, as Connor entered the house. "I was starting to think that you were spending the night at the... Whoa, you look like shit. You okay?"

            "I'm just tired," the android muttered, shrugging off his coat and hanging it up. "I've spent too long outside of sleep mode. I... fell asleep at my desk."

            "God, kid, you gotta quit working yourself to death. Here, lay down." Hank stood up from the couch. As Connor shuffled drowsily over, Hank squinted at him. "Wait a sec, what happened to your tie?"

            "I have no clue," Connor replied honestly, flopping onto the couch. "I was wearing it when I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I wasn't."

            "What the fuck? It couldn't have just walked away. Do you think someone — "

            Hank stopped mid-sentence. Connor's eyes had already closed, and his LED had begun to pulse slow and faint, indicating that he'd entered sleep mode.

            The human sighed, grabbing the blanket off of the floor and draping it over the exhausted android. "Who the fuck steals a tie off of someone while they're asleep?" he muttered to himself, shaking his head as he walked away.

            "Shit. Yeah, I remember," Hank muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So it was someone at the precinct. Who the hell wants to frame someone that bad? We have some asshole coworkers, but I didn't realize we were working with someone that batshit insane."

            A crease appeared between Connor's brows, LED blinking yellow. "...Someone at the precinct..." Suddenly, his eyes opened wide. "Someone at the precinct. That's why I couldn't—"

            "Hey, tin can!"

            Hank and Connor both turned to look, as Gavin came around the corner of the house, looking downright predatory. The android's LED went back to flickering red. Out of pure instinct, Hank shifted so he was standing in front of Connor.

            "What the hell are you two doing? Are you gonna actually investigate this place or what? Do I need to go tell Ben to actually get some competent fucking detectives out here?"

            "Okay, first of all, you do not fuckin' talk to me like that," Hank snapped back, moving up in Gavin's face. "I am a lieutenant, you're a detective. If anyone's gonna tell someone how to do their job, it'd be me. So back the fuck off."

            The two humans glared silently at each other for a tense few moments, and Connor seriously considered pulling Hank back before one of them starting swinging at the other.

            Then, Gavin stepped sideways to look at Connor, still standing behind the older human. "So what model was that hair from, huh? Or am I really gonna have to report your ass?"

            Connor swallowed dryly, LED circling faster, still glowing blood red. Finally, he opened his mouth to respond.

            "Connor," Hank said sharply, ignoring the incredulous look Gavin shot him. "Don't answer him."

            The RK800 glanced at Hank, and the human's blood ran cold. Connor looked... resigned. That look of defeat was so incredibly uncharacteristic of the immaculate, determined man he knew Connor to be.

            "I don't have a choice, Hank," he said softly. "Even if I refused to disclose what model it was, they could take it to CyberLife and have them analyze the hair."

            "Connor, no—!"

            But he was already walking up to Gavin, his face carefully emotionless. It made Hank's heart wrench, seeing him trying to be brave.

            "The synthetic hair on the tie belonged to an RK800," Connor said. His voice no longer shook. "My model."

            Gavin's face twisted in a sneer. Hank took note of how, oddly enough, the younger detective didn't look at all surprised. His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

            "Well, how about that," he whispered, voice dripping with malice. Reaching for his handcuffs, he turned his head to shout over his shoulder. "Hey Ben! Get the fuck over here, we've got the culprit!"

            With a low snarl, Hank threw a protective arm in front of Connor, only to have the android himself grab it and force it down.

            "Hank. Don't get yourself in trouble as well."

            "Fuck no! I ain't letting them take you when we both know you're innocent!" he barked, glowering at Gavin with such force Connor wouldn't have been surprised if he turned to stone.

            "Come on, Lieutenant," Gavin drawled, as Ben came hurrying around to the side of the house, looking around in confusion when he saw no one there except the three officers. "Do you really want a resisting-arrest charge on yourself, too?"

            Connor pushed Hank away with a firm hand (Hank always forgot how strong he was, seeing as Connor wasn't exactly muscular), and stepped forward. He knelt on the ground and placed his hands behind his back.

            "Uh?" Ben muttered, looking at Hank inquiringly.

            "Fuck," was all he got in response, the lieutenant burying his face in his hands. "Fuck!"

            "You have the right to remain silent," Gavin began, a sickening grin on his face. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

            "Don't worry, Hank," Connor said softly, gentle brown eyes turning up to look at his father figure, as Gavin continued with his Miranda rights. "Everything will be all right."

Chapter Text

            "Wait, WAIT!"

            You would've thought Hank was 12 years old instead of 53 with the speed at which he chased Gavin towards the car. The younger detective was dragging the handcuffed android along rather aggressively, even though Connor wasn't resisting in any way.

            "I'm going with him," Hank said firmly, grabbing Connor's other arm (his hold on him much gentler than Gavin's death grip). "In the car."

            Gavin raised a brow. "Like hell you are."

            "Listen you little shit, I'm your superior, so as much as you want to, you can't tell me what to do. I'm just going to sit in the back and keep an eye on him or whatever, we all know he didn't do anything. And you're going to shut the fuck up and deal with it."

            The younger male opened his mouth, but Ben beat him to the punch. "Give it a rest, Gavin."

            Gavin groaned and rolled his eyes with the exact likeness of a 15-year-old girl, but otherwise didn't protest.

            Hank shot Connor another glance as Ben opened the driver's side of the door, and Gavin tossed the android in the back. The look on Connor's face reminded Hank painfully of when they'd first met, cold and stoic, nothing but a machine following orders, feeling nothing inside.

            A vague memory touched the front of his consciousness, hazed from alcohol but at the same time sharply clear, the night on the bridge when he'd drawn his revolver and pointed it at Connor's forehead. The way Connor hadn't even flinched, the way his face remained completely blank.

            "But are you afraid to die, Connor?"

            "You can't kill me, Lieutenant. I'm not alive."

            Hank never had any intention of pulling the trigger, deep down. He'd just wanted to see how the android would react when the prospect of death was staring him straight in the face. That indifferent response, the belief that he was truly just a machine, that he was expendable, that he didn't matter in the slightest, was soul-crushing.

            Connor was the last little light Hank had in the darkness that was his world, how Connor reminded him of what it was like to be a father, with his curiosity and bright-eyed innocence.

            "You know where you can stick your instructions?"

            "No... where?"

            But it was more than that. Before he deviated—and especially towards the end—Hank definitely saw a spark inside of him, something more than a program, something human. He'd felt hopeless, when Connor said those words; I'm not alive. Maybe androids really were just cold, unfeeling machines, like he'd always believed them to be.

            But then Connor said what he said next.

            "What will happen if I pull this trigger, hm? Nothing? Oblivion? Android heaven?"

            And the android's brow had furrowed, voice so very soft when he gave his answer, softer than his usual confident tone.

            "Nothing..."

            "There would be nothing."

            Connor was an enigma at the best of times, but those words had truly mystified him. They still haunted him to this day, like that memory haunted him, left him riddled with guilt every time it reared itself from the recesses of his mind. He thought of it now, as he watched Connor sitting handcuffed in the backseat of a cop car, his face as emotionless as a statue's. And then it clicked.

            That unfeeling mask that Connor wore really was just that—a mask, hiding his true emotions. Hank had known that for awhile, but he didn't realize until just now that it was also true for the pre-revolution Connor, the Connor who had yet to deviate and who insisted he was only a machine. His blank expression had never been indicative of a soulless automaton, but rather a person who knew that they weren't allowed to feel, and therefore kept their emotions closely guarded.

            Just as he was guarding them now. The fact that Hank had been able to see that hint of fear flashing in his eyes meant that, on the inside, Connor was absolutely terrified. And the cool, composed, perfect detective android would not—could not—show weakness in front of others.

            Climbing into the backseat, Hank reached over and gripped his shoulder, giving it a firm, reassuring squeeze.

            "Hey, kid. I'm here."

            Connor's lips pressed into a thin line, but he gave no response. His chestnut eyes were staring straight ahead, staring at nothing. Empty, vacant, hollow.

            Hank was going to personally kick the shit out of whoever framed him.

            "I'll stay here, keep checkin' out the scene," Gavin said to Ben, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. He'd already explained to the (extremely confused) elder officer why they were putting Connor under arrest. "Who knows, maybe we'll find more evidence against this asshole."

            Ben just gave Gavin a wary look, turning to glance at Connor. "...All right, I'll drive them back to the precinct." He shut the car door, and rolled down the window, calling out to Gavin as he walked away, "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone!"

            Gavin's only response was to flip him off, as he vanished back inside the house.

            "Hank, listen." Connor caught Hank off guard when he suddenly spoke up, his voice hushed so only he could hear. "Do you remember how I couldn't completely reconstruct the crime scene?"

            Hank shot a glance towards Ben, as the other officer turned the key in the ignition and set off for the police station. "Yeah?" he answered, mirroring Connor's low tone.

            "I know why. It's because the crime scene was tampered with. When you said that whoever framed me must have been someone from the precinct, I realized where the murder weapon came from. The glock at the scene isn't the real murder weapon. It was planted there to make it look as though a police officer was the murderer—and it had to be planted there by someone who has access to our service weapons."

            Hank paused. "Okay, great to know, but how does that help us?"

            "I am the only RK800 model that exists," Connor said again, "which means I am the only detective android that exists. But I'm not the only android with the ability to reconstruct."

            "You're not?" Hank was legitimately surprised. He'd thought that Connor's advanced abilities were unique to him alone.

            "Markus," Connor murmured. "He's another RK-series prototype."

            "He's a what now?!"

            "At the Stratford Tower, when we were there for our investigation..." Connor finally met Hank's eyes. He looked sheepish, an unusual expression on his face. "When I scanned Markus's face on the screen, I identified his model and serial number, but I didn't tell you what it was. I was... I was disturbed by the fact that the leader of the deviant revolution was of the same incredibly rare prototype model that I am. I'd thought that deviancy was impossible in a model so advanced."

            "Ah. I remember that," Hank mused. "I knew you were acting weird." He lifted a hand, rubbing at his temples. "So Markus can do what you can do, huh?"

            "Correct." Connor's eyes narrowed with sudden determination. "If you can get an android to confirm that the crime scene was tampered with, it would prove that I'm innocent—that I was framed. You have to ask Markus. I know he can do it."

            "Connor... Markus isn't a detective. If you couldn't figure out what happened, I doubt he could."

            The RK800 leaned closer, jaw clenched. "Markus is the one who opened my eyes, who convinced me to become deviant. I'd trust him with my life, Hank, just like I would with you. I know he can reconstruct what happened and prove my innocence. I believe in him."

            Hank sat back, blowing out a long, slow breath. "If you think it'll work. I trust you, son."

            "But," Connor added in a sharp tone, "you cannot tell him what's really going on. Markus knows me; he's my friend. So if he knows I've been framed, the prosecution could argue that Markus is lying for my sake. Don't let him know that I have anything to do with this, so they'll have no reason to doubt the results of his reconstruction."

            The human blinked. "Wh—? What am I supposed to tell him, then?"

            "Make up a story. It doesn't matter. As long as he doesn't know I'm involved."

            "...Okaaay..." Hank heaved another sigh. This was a lot to take in. "And what if this doesn't work out?"

            "...I'll figure out a back-up plan."

            "Shit, kid, if a genius like you doesn't have a Plan B, we're doomed if our Plan A fails."

            "Then we'll just have to make sure Plan A succeeds."

oXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo

            Hank pushed through the double doors of New Jericho, surprised by the blast of warmth that washed over him from a vent on the ceiling. Connor had been here a few times before, but this was Hank's first visit to the android sanctuary, a building that used to be a hotel. The city was currently working on the construction of what would be called New Jericho Tower, a more permanent headquarters for the leaders of the revolution as well as a place for androids who had nowhere else to go. But for now, this was where the former people of Jericho resided, and this was where Connor had told Hank he could find Markus.

            "Can I help you?" a female android called out to him from behind the hotel's reception desk, a friendly smile on her face. That was reassuring. Seeing as Hank was obviously a human, he'd half-expected to be received with hostility the moment he stepped inside.

            "Uh, yeah. I'm, uh, here to see Markus."

            "Markus?" That made her smile fall, though she looked more surprised than suspicious or angry. "Markus doesn't meet with humans without an appointment."

            "I... really need to see him. I'm Lieutenant Hank Anderson from the Detroit Police Department. Connor sent me, he's my partner."

            "Connor the deviant hunter?"

            Hank narrowed his eyes. "No, Connor the deviant android who helped Markus win the revolution."

            The receptionist flushed. "I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it—"

            "It's all right, it's all right..." Hank reached up, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Look, I just really need to see him. It's urgent."

            She frowned, but after a pause, her LED cycled yellow, then back to blue.

            "I've just called Markus down. He should be here to meet you in just a few minutes." She lifted a delicate hand, pointing to the pistol on his belt. "I beg your pardon, Lieutenant Anderson, but New Jericho has a strict no-weapons policy."

            "Oh, uh, sorry." Hank took his gun from its holster and placed it on the desk. Looking a little surprised by his compliance, the receptionist reached hesitantly to take it, placing it in a drawer.

            "I'll make sure to return it to you before you leave," she said lightly, as she locked the drawer with a tap of her fingers.

            "Sure, whatever..." Hank took a step back, sweeping his gaze all around the entrance hall. It was quite a nice hotel, looking to be fairly recently built. "You guys have the heat on in here. I thought androids didn't get hot or cold?"

            "We don't," she answered, a faint, amused smile touching her lips. "It's more of a convenience for the humans who visit, like you."

            "Oh. Makes sense."

            "...What's Connor like?"

            "Eh?"

            The female android blushed again. "Well, I... you know, we've all heard a lot about him. He was famous before the revolution, when he was still known as the deviant hunter. And, now everyone knows how Markus convinced him to deviate, and how he infiltrated the CyberLife Tower all by himself, and woke up thousands of androids..."

            Oh Jesus, Connor's got fangirls, Hank thought with a grimace.

            "And we kind of know Markus. He's serious, righteous, passionate about our cause... But none of us know anything about Connor. What's he like?"

            "...Uh." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well. He's a real compassionate person. Empathetic. A little naïve. He's capable, and confident, and he's a great detective. I would say he's intelligent, but... y'know, android... that's kind of a given I guess." Hank paused, folding his arms across his chest. "Most jokes go straight over his head, and he annoys the hell outta me sometimes, but... he's a good kid. Little shit's kind of like a son to me."

            The receptionist grinned.

            "Also, he's taken."

            "Huh?"

            A nearby elevator gave a sudden beep, interrupting their conversation, and the doors slid open. Hank turned to watch as a tall, handsome, dark-skinned man stepped out into the lobby. He had heterochromatic eyes, one blue and one green, a stylish buzz-cut and the barest hint of stubble on his chin and across his upper lip. A long, dark trench coat swept behind him as he walked, flapping at the heels of his knee-high black boots.

            Markus.

            Hank had only ever seen the deviant leader on TV; unlike Connor, he'd never met him in person. It made him feel strange, almost like he was meeting a celebrity, especially with how everything about Markus radiated power and authority.

            "Can I help you?" Markus asked, stopping in front of Hank. He had the same dead-serious expression and permanently furrowed brow that the lieutenant had always seen on him on television.

            "...Yeah, er... Hi. I'm Lieutenant Hank Anderson from the Detroit Police Department—"

            "Lieutenant Anderson?" Markus raised an eyebrow. "Connor's mentioned you. You're his partner, right?"

            Hank blinked. "Yeah."

            The deviant leader moved forward, extending a hand. "It's nice to meet you. Connor speaks very highly of you."

            "Thanks..." He shook Markus's hand firmly. "I'm sure you're really busy, being the leader of the revolution and all, but I—we have a favor to ask you."

            "We?"

            "The DPD. You're an RK... something, right?"

            "...I'm an RK200, yes. Who told you that?"

            "Connor." Hank cleared his throat. "We were wondering if you were able to do the, uh... Connor calls it reconstruction."

            "Reconstructing a scene? Yes, I can do that."

            "We have... a case, that needs to be solved urgently. I came to ask you if you'd be willing to work with the DPD, just for a day, and take a look at the crime scene for us. See if you can tell what happened."

            Markus blinked a few times, narrowing his eyes. "...Isn't that why you have Connor?"

            "Connor's, uh, away. A police department in Grand Rapids wanted to study him. But we can't wait for him to get back—this case needs to be solved, now."

            Markus didn't respond for several seconds. The android's face was pretty well-masked, but Hank could tell he was suspicious.

            "Look, if you really want, I can get Connor to call and tell you that my story's legit. I don't care. But we really need you, Markus."

            Frowning, Markus slowly shook his head. "With all due respect, Lieutenant, I'm an RK200, not an RK800. I have some of the same functions as Connor, but I'm not a detective."

            "I know." Hank stepped forward, clenching a fist at his side, and looked earnestly into Markus's mismatched eyes. "That's what I said to Connor, when he told me to ask you for help. But Connor said he believes in you. And I believe in him."

            Markus hesitated.

            "Please, Markus."

            The android sighed, and then, to Hank's relief, he nodded his head. "All right. I can't promise I'll be able to help, but I'll try. I'll look at this crime scene with you."

            Hank relaxed, glad that he didn't have to get down on his goddamn knees and beg. Please was not a word that Hank said often, if ever, but fuck, he wasn't going to let Connor be framed for fucking murder if there was anything he could do about it.

            "Thank you. We really appreciate this. Uh, is now a good time?"

            "...Now? Like, right now?"

            "I wasn't kiddin' when I said it's urgent."

            Markus was giving him a look of absolute incredulity, and this was officially the most awkward exchange Hank had had since high school.

            "If... it's that urgent, then I can meet you at the scene in an hour. I'm sorry, but that's as soon as I can be there. I have other things I need to tend to first."

            "Yeah, okay, that's fine. That's great." Hank reached out and shook Markus's hand again, this time in farewell. "Thanks again, you're doing a great service to the DPD."

            "Of course, Lieutenant."

            With a firm nod, Markus turned and headed back to the elevator, pressing the button. In moments, he was gone, the elevator doors sliding shut again with a finality.

            "Well." Hank tugged up the collar of his coat, blinking a few times. "He's intense."

            "You're not the only one who thinks that," the receptionist said with a smile, unlocking his pistol from the drawer.

            "Yeah?" Hank accepted back his gun, placing it in its holster. "Hey, why the no-weapons policy, anyway? I know he's all about nonviolent protest, but, androids are probably the ones who need to defend themselves the most."

            The female android laced her fingers together and rested her chin on them. "Markus doesn't want to give the humans any reason to think we're a threat. Even if one of us did use a weapon in self-defense, we'd probably be blamed for whatever happened. New laws don't erase prejudice." She lifted a shoulder. "But, we like having that policy here. It makes New Jericho a very peaceful, safe place."

            "Huh... I can see that, I guess. Well uh, you have a nice day, miss."

            "Have a nice day, Lieutenant."

            As Hank stepped back out into the bitterly cold Michigan air, he heaved an enormous sigh. That could have went better. But, he'd gotten Markus to agree, and in the end that was all that mattered. Now all that was left to do was to go back to the precinct and tell Connor the good news, and then head to the crime scene to meet Markus in an hour. Smooth sailing from here.

oXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo

            "ARE ALL OF YOU FUCKING INSANE?! I DON'T GIVE A DAMN WHATEVER BULLSHIT EVIDENCE THERE IS, CONNOR IS THE SINGLE MOST INNOCENT PERSON I KNOW!"

            Or maybe not so smooth sailing.

            Hank threw open the door to the interrogation room, his face dropping as he took in the scene before him. Chris had a firm grip on a struggling Eve, holding her back from leaping on Gavin, who was likewise being held back by Tina with blood dripping from his nose.

            "Hey hey hey—!" Hank rushed over to Eve, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Kid, calm down—"

            Wrenching herself free of Chris's grip, Eve slapped Hank full across the face. The older man jolted from the impact, blinking several times in pure disbelief.

            "How could you let them arrest him if you were THERE?! I fucking trusted you, Hank!"

            Normally, the short-tempered police lieutenant would have started shouting back, hearing her talk to him in such a way. But he was completely and utterly stunned by the fact that she'd actually just slapped him.

            "What happened to Connor being like a son to you? Huh?!" Eve was hysterical, her cheeks all flushed with anger, blond hair falling all over her face. Behind the glass, Connor was staring calmly at the wall, the soundproof interrogation room leaving him oblivious to the chaos outside. "If it was the other way around, HE wouldn't have let YOU get arrested!"

            "Fuck off, Tina!" Gavin was snarling somewhere in the background; Hank wasn't really paying attention to him. "Let go! Lemme hit that little bitch!"

            "Eve," Hank said, his voice quiet but firm. "First of all, you need to calm the fuck down. Second, I actually did try to stop him from getting arrested. I blocked Gavin when he was trying to cuff him, for God's sake. Connor pushed me out of the way. He wasn't having it."

            Eve opened her mouth, then closed it again. She flipped her hair over her shoulder with a frustrated huff, and turned to the glass, staring at Connor sitting cuffed inside the room. An indignant sound left her, her eyes squeezing shut.

            "Look, look." Hank spread his arms in an everyone calm the hell down sort of gesture. "We're going to figure this out. Since Connor can't investigate the scene anymore, for obvious reasons, I went and talked to Markus."

            "Markus?" Gavin asked in disbelief, yanking his arm out of Tina's and reaching up to pinch his nose shut. "The leader of the deviants?"

            "Yeah. He's also from the RK-series, so he has a lot of the same functions as Connor. I asked him if he would help out with our investigation, since we still haven't completely figured out what the fuck even happened at the scene."

            "We know what happened," Gavin said, exasperated. "Connor shot someone."

            Eve let out a sound very similar to the roar of a lion, and Chris had to grab her again before she could charge the male detective.

            "No, we don't," Hank said firmly, trying to stay calm. To be honest, he had half a mind to tell Chris to let her beat the shit out of Gavin. "Everyone here, except you, knows that Connor wouldn't ever hurt someone unless it was in self-defense. And even if he did, you know damn well he wouldn't leave behind evidence. The gun was there, and his tie was there. There was no sign of a struggle, and even if there was, and he managed to pull Connor's fucking tie off during the fight, Connor wouldn't just leave his tie at the scene. He's a detective, he knows how evidence works."

            Hank stepped back, looking around at everyone in the room.

            "It's obvious something isn't right. And Connor is innocent until proven guilty. We're going to find out exactly what the fuck happened there, and then maybe we can start talkin' about putting him behind bars. All right?"

            Gavin let out a disgusted sound, his cloudy grey eyes narrowing. "But this Markus asshole knows Connor. They worked together in the fuckin' rebellion. He'll just lie about whatever his scanning shit tells him."

            "And that's why he doesn't know that Connor is involved," Hank said through gritted teeth—Gavin was seriously starting to piss him off. "He has no idea that Connor's a suspect. Now if you're done bustin' my balls, I have to talk to Connor, and then I gotta get to the crime scene to meet Markus there."

            Hank pushed past Gavin towards the interrogation room, and Gavin scoffed, a dark scowl twisting his features. "Whatever, I'm outta here. Sick of this bullshit." Stalking towards the door, he shot a glare at Evelyn. "You're lucky his daddy's here to protect you, or else I'd seriously fuck you up. You better watch yourself, or you might end up with a broken nose too."

            Eve gave him the finger as soon as his back was turned. Then, she pulled free of Chris a second time, darting after Hank. "Wait, I want to see him too!"

            Hank shrugged, "I'm not stopping you." He pressed his hand to the identification pad, the door sliding open as it registered his handprint. Eve hurried in after him.

            As soon as they were through the second door, the female detective hurtled herself at Connor like a football player, the android giving a startled sound as suddenly his visual field was full of Evelyn. Seriously, he couldn't see anything else.

            "Eve," he said in surprise. His hands automatically tried to reach up to hug her back, but of course he was stopped by the handcuffs.

            "Connor," she whimpered back, arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. She kissed his hairline, then dipped down to kiss him on the lips. "Are you all right? I swear, we're gonna get you out of here. Don't worry. You won't have to be locked up much longer."

            Connor tried to respond, but Eve was kissing him again, her fingers on his cheeks and her body draped over his. "E—Eve—Evelyn," he jerked out of her grip so he could speak, "L-Lieutenant Anderson is in here, and I assume there are others behind the glass."

            "There are," she confirmed, pressing another chaste kiss to his forehead.

            He grimaced. "I... would prefer not to make out with you in public, though I appreciate the affection."

            Hank butted in, "Says the guy who grabbed her in the backseat of my car and tried to shove his tongue down her—"

            "HANK!"

            "Hank, don't tease him, he's been through enough already," Eve scolded. She did not, however, stop smothering Connor in affection, and the android honestly looked about as uncomfortable as physically possible, wincing and blushing cerulean. "Poor, sweet thing... Locked up like some kind of criminal..."

            "Eve..." His warm brown eyes peered up at her. "I am okay. You don't have to be so worried."

            She puffed out a sigh, looking offended on his behalf. "Everything will be all right, okay? Hank said he talked to Markus, he's gonna have him look at the crime scene, 'cause he has the same functions as you." Obviously, Eve wasn't aware of the conversation Connor and Hank had had in the car earlier. Connor darted a glance at the older human. "We're gonna prove that whatever evidence they have against you is fake. I promise, I won't let anything happen to you."

            Connor's eyes softened. "...Thank you..." Slowly, he tilted forward, pressing his forehead against her own. "I... don't know what I'd do without you, Eve. I'm very lucky to have you to support me."

            She smiled gently in return. Then, she abruptly grabbed his face.

            "You don't have anything to worry about, anyone who even looks at you can see you're absolutely harmless. Look at him." She turned his head to face Hank, her hands squishing his cheeks together. Connor, frankly, looked dead inside. "Look at his innocent baby face."

            "Eve, I adore you," Connor said slowly, "but, Hank, please get her the hell out of here."

Chapter Text

            "You have to trust me, Daniel. Let the hostage go, and I promise you, everything will be fine."

            The deranged PL600 gritted its teeth, eyes darting around wildly. Connor flicked its gaze to Emma, to the gun pressed against her temple. Daniel was starting to waver, however, the pistol beginning to lower from her head—Connor watched in its peripherals as the probability of success climbed to 99%.

            "I want everyone to leave — !" Daniel shouted, gesturing aggressively with its gun. "...A-A-And I want a car. When I'm outside the city, I'll let her go."

            Connor softened its face, keeping its voice gentle and soothing as it denied the other android's request. It definitely couldn't agree to that, but it needed to keep Daniel stable. "That's impossible, Daniel. Let the girl go, and I promise you won't be hurt."

            The probability of success held steady at 99%. The deviant's blue eyes gazed back at Connor with uncertainty, hovering on the precipice of believing the negotiator's words, or jumping to its and Emma's deaths.

            "I don't wanna die..." it breathed.

            "You're not going to die. We're just going to talk," Connor reiterated, lifting its hands placatingly. "Nothing will happen to you. You have my word."

            The indicator hit 100%, and those ice-blue eyes filled with trust.

            It was over.

            "...Okay..." Daniel nodded its head slowly, shoulders relaxing. "...I trust you."

            Gradually, the arm holding Emma lowered to the ground, hand drawing away from where it'd been clutching her around the waist. The girl scrambled away, her trembling legs only able to carry her a few feet before she tripped and hit the ground.

            Daniel stared at Connor.

            Connor lowered its head, staring back.

            And then, the sound of gunshots and Emma's startled screams filled the air, Thirium exploding from the deviant's side as a bullet ripped through its hard plastic frame. Another struck its shoulder, flecks of deep sapphire splashing its face as it jerked sideways, before the final shot landed in its left cheek.

            Daniel collapsed to its knees, LED blaring red, drops of Thirium showering the air around it. Slowly, its head lifted, lips pressing together tightly in fear, shock, pain, betrayal.

            "...You lied to me, Connor."

            Connor's expression didn't change, staring down at the destroyed deviant with no sympathy.

            "...You lied to me..."

            Its voice fizzled out, eyes clouding over. The LED cycled three times more, red, red, red... and then the glow faded.

            Connor cast a passing glance at Emma, sobbing on the ground. Shaking, crying, traumatized — but alive. She was alive.

MISSION SUCCESSFUL.

            The negotiator turned, jacket flapping in the wind as it made its way off the roof without looking back. The SWAT team rushed outside; Captain Allen glanced at Emma, seeing she was all right, and turned to give Connor a look of vague disbelief as the android strode past him. Its face was completely blank, not caring that the deviant had been neutralized right in front of it, not happy that Emma was alive and safe. Its mission was to save the hostage, and it had succeeded, and now its job here was finished. It felt nothing.

            A cold... emotionless... machine.

........................................

            Connor turned its head sharply at the sudden loud clambering that sounded in front of it, a dark shape darting through the cluttered attic. Without pause, the RK800 continued deeper into the room, moving quietly, crouched low as it ducked around and under objects. A chair scraped softly against the wooden floorboards as it pushed it aside, advancing ever closer to where it'd seen that silhouette vanish.

            Then, Connor jerked backwards as the shape reappeared, panicked pants of breath and rapid footsteps breaking the silence. The form dashed towards Connor, but stopped short as it saw the detective, its eyes going wide with fear.

DEVIANT LOCATED.

            Now that it stood illuminated in front of the only window in the attic, it was no longer a vague, dark blob in Connor's visual field, but an android in the embodiment of a black-skinned male, its LED glowing scarlet at its temple. It was splattered with human blood all over, its shirt more red than white, the right half of its face smeared with crimson. Both forearms had their plastimetal exposed, too damaged for its self-healing program to repair.

            The deviant looked down, mouthing wordlessly for a moment as it tried to find something to say, something, anything that would convince the other android of its innocence.

            "...I was just defending myself," it managed at last, looking up, eyes pleading. "He was gonna kill me."

            Connor stared back at it in cold silence.

            "I'm begging you..." the HK400 whispered in desperation. "Don't tell them."

            Before the detective could respond, Hank's voice sounded suddenly from down below. "Connor, what the fuck is going on up there?!"

            The deviant stood very still, jaw clenched, face pinched in an expression of utter helplessness. The RK800 gazed back, watching it as its eyes begged Connor for mercy.

            But the concept of 'mercy' did not exist within the heart of a machine.

            "It's here, Lieutenant!"

            The HK400's face fell, brown eyes filling with anguish. It lowered its head; its bottom lip trembled. Connor watched, waiting patiently as Hank shouted orders downstairs.

            Standing in the light of the window, thunder rumbling quietly into their audio processors, both androids knew with absolute certainty that this was the end of the road for the deviant.

            Whether it was sooner or later, the HK400 would be deactivated.

            And it had Connor to thank for that.

........................................

REACH OPTIMAL STRESS FOR CONFESSION.

35% LEVEL OF STRESS.

            Connor clasped its hands together on the tabletop, cold brown eyes staring down the deviant sitting across from it. Several moments of silence stretched between the two machines. Connor could feel eyes on itself from behind the glass, the humans watching, waiting to see what the detective android would do.

            Finally, it opened its mouth to speak, face cold and dark. "You're damaged," it began, watching as the deviant's LED spun from yellow to red. "Did your owner do that? ...Did he beat you?"

39% LEVEL OF STRESS.

            Its LED returned to blinking yellow, not a single word escaping its lips. Unfazed by the HK400's silence, Connor mercilessly pressed on. It reached for the file on the table, slowly flipping open the folder.

            "You recognize him?" the RK800 asked. "It's Carlos Ortiz. Stabbed, twenty-eight times." As if the deviant didn't already know full well who the man was. As if it hadn't been tortured and abused by him for months on end.

            Connor picked up the picture on top and set it aside, revealing the photo underneath, the one the detectives had taken of the chilling message written in perfect CyberLife Sans on the wall: I AM ALIVE.

            "That was written on the wall in his blood."

43% LEVEL OF STRESS.

            Connor leaned forward, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "You've refused to talk since they arrested you," it said lowly. Uncaring of everything the HK400 had already been through; uncaring that it was only adding to its stress, its trauma, its suffering. It needed to make the other android confess, and that's what it was going to do. "If you don't cooperate, they'll do things the hard way. Is that what you want?"

47% LEVEL OF STRESS.

            "You don't seem to understand the situation," it insisted, voice becoming darker and more threatening by the second, mimicking impatience. "You killed a human. They'll tear you apart if you don't say something."

51% LEVEL OF STRESS - OPTIMAL.

            Connor watched it closely, furrowing its brows as the HK400 remained stubbornly silent, even though its stress levels had reached the optimum. Still the detective didn't back down, ruthless in its interrogation.

            "If you won't talk, I'm going to have to probe your memory — "

            "NO!" The HK400's head jerked up, eyes blown wide with panic. "No — please don't do that."

59% LEVEL OF STRESS - OPTIMAL.

            The prototype stared back at it with no compassion, its face remaining completely blank, in stark contrast to the way the deviant was reeling with emotion just across from it. There was a brief pause, the housekeeper model glancing fearfully at the one-way glass, its lips trembling.

            "...W-what..." It hesitated, LED flashing a vibrant yellow. "...what are they gonna do to me...?"

            Connor said nothing. Simply watched. Cold, calculating, indifferent.

            The HK400 looked up suddenly. "They're gonna destroy me, aren't they?"

            Without any change in tone, Connor responded, unaffected by the terror in the HK's voice as it answered the other android's question truthfully. "They're going to disassemble you to look for problems in your biocomponents. They have no choice, if they want to understand what happened."

63% LEVEL OF STRESS - OPTIMAL.

            "...Why did you tell them you found me?" the deviant asked, its voice a mixture of confusion, disbelief and betrayal. "Why couldn't you just have left me there?"

            "I was programmed to hunt deviants like you," the RK800 replied unsympathetically. "I just accomplished my mission."

67% LEVEL OF STRESS - OPTIMAL.

            The deviant stared at the table.

            Connor stared at it.

            A beat passed.

            "...I don't wanna die," the HK400 breathed.

            Connor leaned forward. "Then talk to me."

            "...I-I..."

            It looked up, visibly shaking, eyes wild and full of all the horrors of the world.

            "...I can't..."

            The prototype sat back again, its narrowed eyes focused solidly on the deviant as it weighed its options.

CHOOSE APPROACH.

-PRESSURE IT

-PROBE ITS MEMORY

-CONVINCE IT

→ CONVINCE IT

            "If you don't talk, they're going to tear you apart and analyze you piece by piece," it reiterated, voice frigidly emotionless as it threatened the traumatized android. "They're going to destroy you. Do you understand?!"

74% LEVEL OF STRESS - OPTIMAL.

            Too high. Anything about 75% would be out of the optimal range of stress. Connor switched tactics, softening its demeanor, eyes changing from cruelly apathetic to warm and gentle, easily shifting from one emotion to another. After all, it felt nothing inside, making it effortless for it to fake feeling sympathy, or anger, or sadness — to manipulate anything, man or machine, into giving it what it wanted.

            "I know you're scared, and lost. You're disturbed by what happened." Connor tilted its head, looking at the deviant with eyes full of feigned understanding. "Talk to me, and you'll feel better."

67% LEVEL OF STRESS - OPTIMAL.

            Connor could sense it was close now. Just one more push in the right direction. The stubbornness in the deviant's face was beginning to waver, hovering on the precipice of staying adamantly silent or divulging its sorrows, its troubles, its misery.

            "Confess, and I'll protect you," Connor insisted — a blatant lie. If CyberLife wanted to disassemble the HK400, as they certainly would after they got all of the information they could from analyzing it while it was intact, there was absolutely nothing Connor could or would do to stop them. "I promise, I won't let anyone hurt you."

60% LEVEL OF STRESS - OPTIMAL.

            There was a long, heavy moment of silence. Connor looked towards the glass, waiting patiently, counting the seconds in its head. Despite seeing nothing but its own reflection in the mirror, it could feel the humans' eyes on it, watching, waiting to see if the RK800 would succeed in its mission.

            And of course, Connor never failed.

            "He tortured me every day."

            The words were spoken low and faint, breathy, in a voice thick with anguish. Connor looked back at the HK, its brows lifted slightly.

            "I did whatever he told me, but... there was always something wrong."

            And here it was. Connor leaned in, listening intently as the deviant began its confession, its eyes focused down on the table in defeat.

            To complete its assigned objective, Connor had put the HK400 through so much more grief and fear and pain—but what did that matter? It was a machine. It didn't actually feel anything; it only simulated emotions. If Connor had to put it through hell, then so be it, because it wasn't as though it was alive, as if its thoughts and 'feelings' actually mattered.

            The android sent by CyberLife always accomplished its mission.

            Always.

........................................

            "Have you been in contact with any other androids recently?"

            "Only station androids in the normal course of my function."

            Connor narrowed its eyes, displeased as it finished its initial questioning. None of the androids had shown any sort of reaction, any sort of emotion, just yet, but Connor wasn't going to give up that easily.

            "One of you saw the attack on the surveillance cameras and said nothing," the detective said, its voice sharp and accusing. "Which means there's a deviant in this room."

            Connor turned slowly, taking a few steps to the left, eyes roaming over the three station androids, studying, calculating.

            "...And I'm going to find out which it is."

            There was a heavy pause, the other machines staring back at it with complete and total apathy. Connor's eyes moved from one face, to the next, to the next. Its jaw clenched.

            "If you give yourself up..." it began, watching oh-so carefully for a response, "maybe I can convince the humans not to destroy you."

            Silence. Connor narrowed its eyes. So it wasn't interested in a deal. Perhaps it could guilt it into confessing...?

            "Why should you all be destroyed, if only one is deviant? Turn yourself in, or two innocent androids will be shut down because of you."

            Nothing. None of them even blinked, three blue LEDs cycling calmly. It was a guessing game at this point, and Connor didn't particularly like having to guess; but, one by one, it would test their reactions, until one of them broke.

            Picking the one in the middle at random, Connor took a slow step forward... and another... and another, until it was up in the other android's face, towering several inches above it in height, a force to be reckoned with.

            "You're going to be switched off," it said lowly, its voice laced with venom. The volume at which it threatened the JB300 lifted with each word it spoke. "We're gonna search your memory, and tear you apart piece by piece for analysis. You're going to be destroyed. Do you hear me?! DESTROYED!"

            Blue... blue... blue. The light at its temple didn't even flicker, its face remaining completely neutral. Connor stepped back again, clasping its hands behind its back, eyes continuing to scan each face with ruthless determination.

            Suddenly, Connor dove forward and snatched the leftmost android by the collar, jerking it close. "You SCUMBAG!" it snarled. Halfway into the threat, it decided to use some of the language it had picked up from Hank, hoping it would make its aggressive demeanor more believable. "I know it's you! You're just a fucking deviant! Go on, ADMIT IT!"

            Connor stared into its face for a good three seconds, watching its expression. The deviant stared back.

            Connor let go.

            Dammit.

            Fine. Connor wasn't out of tactics yet. This time, it stepped in the opposite direction, moving over to the rightmost android. It dropped its arms to its sides, a smirk quirking up the side of its mouth.

            "The deviants have just been caught," it bluffed, tilting its head knowingly. It stepped forward, moving into the android's space. "They gave you up. There's no point in lying. We know everything."

            Yet again, the machine in front of it gave no sign of life or emotion—but, this time, Connor caught a hint of movement in its peripherals. The RK800 was halfway into a sentence when it noticed it, and therefore didn't take its eyes off of the android it was interrogating. When it stepped back again, however, it turned to look at the android on the far left. It could have sworn it'd seen that one turn its head ever so slightly...

            It was facing forward again now, but Connor wasn't dissuaded by that. Its hard brown eyes focused intently on the android in question, several beats of silence passing through the room.

            The android stared ahead unblinkingly.

            Connor made its decision.

            Walking across to stand in front of the leftmost JB300 once again, Connor reached out with both hands, tucking its fingertips between the strip of fabric that held its marked Stratford Tower jacket together. Without breaking eye contact, Connor ripped its jacket open and reached for the panel on its stomach, where it knew it would find its Thirium pump regulator.

            Connor closed its hand around the vital biocomponent, twisted, and yanked.

            The JB's body began twitching in subtle motions as error messages ran through its system, eyes rolling back and lids fluttering rapidly.

            Connor lifted the regulator up where the other android could see it — theoretically. It would be difficult for it to see anything with its optical units malfunctioning as they were.

            "Biocomponent 8451," Connor breathed. "Regulates the heartbeat."

            The detective's voice was low and chilling, the faintest hint of a sadistic smirk on its lips. It shook the biocomponent gently for emphasis as it spoke.

            "Without this module, you will shut down in exactly sixty-three seconds." Connor dropped its hand over the opened panel in its abdomen, tauntingly. "I could put it back. But... you just have to tell me the truth."

            Connor leaned in. Its eyes held no mercy.

            "Are you the deviant?"

            One, two, three, four, five seconds passed.

            Silence, silence, silence.

            Connor sighed heavily through its nose. There was no real reason to shut down the android, so it pressed its hand forward, placing the biocomponent back and locking it into place —

            "Ungh — !"

            Connor let out a startled grunt as suddenly the JB300—the deviant—grabbed the detective by the lapels of its jacket and slammed it back against a nearby countertop. Caught completely off guard, Connor wildly grabbed at the deviant's wrists, struggling as it went for Connor's own regulator.

            But it had taken the RK800 by surprise, and before Connor's processors could catch up and figure out a way to get the other android off of it, there was a hand wrapped around the biocomponent in its stomach, a tearing sound meeting its ears, and then the prototype's visual field flooded with warnings.

            Connor collapsed back, losing its bearings, arms flailing in the air for a moment as it tried to figure out what the hell was happening and where the deviant was in its blurred visual field and what it could do to stop it, and then suddenly it was aware of something sharp being stabbed through its left hand.

            "Mmph — AGH!"

            Its arm was slammed against the counter and held there, seemingly by whatever object the deviant had just impaled its hand with. Connor's eyes stared forward, open but unfocused, blinking a few times. Its right hand waved uselessly as it struggled to push itself up. Vaguely, Connor was aware of the Thirium gushing from its abdomen. Unlike when Connor had taken out the deviant's regulator, opening the panel and removing it properly, the deviant had torn Connor's biocomponent out by force.

VITAL SYSTEM DAMAGED

BIOCOMPONENT #8451 MISSING

-00:01:45 TIME REMAINING BEFORE SHUTDOWN

            The detective's visual field was greyed out and staticky, flashing red intermittently, a sharp bleating sound ringing through its ears. Gasping, it stuck out a hand, watching as the deviant backed away from it. It studied the RK800 for a few seconds, making sure Connor was immobile, before turning and exiting the room as casually as it could. Shit.

            Sucking in a pained breath through its teeth, Connor struggled to find the energy to speak, finding its voice box barely functional.

            "Hank... nnh, Hank... I need help... auugh..."

            Its voice came out soft and weak, too weak for the lieutenant to hear in the other room. Panting, Connor fought to keep its processors online, assessing its options.

-00:01:30 TIME REMAINING BEFORE SHUTDOWN

            Did it have enough time to reach its biocomponent before the timer ran out? Could it even reach the biocomponent? Connor wasn't even sure it could move at all. It tried to calculate the odds of reaching the regulator before it shut down, but its CPU could hardly keep its optical units functioning, let alone perform computations.

            Struggling, Connor found it was indeed able to move, as it managed to reach out with its leg and kick aside one of the dining chairs. It could see the regulator now, on the other side of the table. So far. Too far. Even without running the actual calculation, Connor knew the probability of success was extremely low.

            The prototype twisted its body, reaching out with its arm now, straining to grab the knife embedded in its palm. Even as its fingers closed around the handle, even as it pulled away the knife with a hard yank and cried out as it fell forward onto the floor, one ceaseless thought continued running through Connor's mind.

            I am going to die.

oXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo

            Connor bolted upright with a gasp, LED glaring blood red at his temple. His head whipped one way, then the other, trying to get his bearings.

            Where was he? What happened to the Stratford Tower—the interrogation room—the terrace?

            Why had he been put through that again?

            Thirium pump pounding in his chest, face covered in a light sheen of sweat, Connor finally recognized the room around him; a glass cell at the precinct. He was sitting on the bench, where he'd fallen asleep.

            Fallen... asleep.

            Asleep.

            Connor collapsed back against the bench, placing a hand over his chest, feeling his pump beating wildly beneath his fingers. It'd been a dream—a nightmare. The ability to dream had been on his list of upgrades, he remembered.

            Humans have to go through that on a regular basis...?!

            He hadn't realized that dreams felt so... real. He could see those moments in his past crystal-clear, hear the androids' scared, tormented voices... Hear his own voice, cold and emotionless and brutal. His left hand felt like it was throbbing, the sensation of the knife being stabbed through his palm lingering with him. He hadn't been able to feel pain back then, but he'd still felt it, felt that his hand was damaged, felt it being pinned against the countertop, leaking Thirium.

            His chest moved rapidly up and down as he heaved for breath. Goddammit, he didn't even need oxygen to function, why was his simulated respiration so realistic? His own panicked breaths weren't helping him calm down. Warnings were flashing in his eyes, alerting him of his racing Thirium pump, of his quickly rising level of stress. His stress levels hadn't been this high (now approaching 90%) since the night he deviated.

            "You don't seem to understand the situation. You killed a human. They'll tear you apart if you don't say something."

            His own voice rang in his ears again, and he lifted his hands, shaking fingers clutching into his hair, pulling it from its usual neat, pristine, slicked-back state.

            "You SCUMBAG! I know it's you! You're just a fucking deviant!"

[LEVEL OF STRESS: 99%]

            He needed to calm down, he needed to calm down, calm down. Squeezing his eyes shut, Connor dismissed the alerts in his visual field and clenched his jaw. He sucked in a long, slow breath through his teeth, focusing on the sensation of air filling his artificial lungs, and held it.

            One... two... three... four... five.

            Slowly, Connor blew out through his mouth, lowering his hands from where he'd been clutching fistfuls of his hair.

            Once more, he breathed in...

            One... two... three... four... five.

            And out.

[STRESS LEVELS STABILIZING]

            Connor shifted, cautiously sitting up from where he'd been lying on his back. A hand lifted to wipe the sweat from his brow, Thirium pump finally starting to slow.

            ...Did I just have a panic attack?

            He turned to looked at the glass wall of his cell, where he could just vaguely see his own reflection. He immediately frowned at the sight. God, he was a mess. His face was pale—actually pale, that must have been part of the upgrades—and shining with sweat, his hair completely askew, jacket wrinkled and tie hanging loose. Quickly he went to work fixing his appearance, smoothing down his hair, straightening his tie.

            He'd never... felt distress like that before. The closest he'd gotten was the night of the Jericho raid, the flood of confusion and guilt and regret and uncertainty—of exhilaration and energy and triumph and freedom. But he'd managed to clamp down and control his raging emotions, then, as close as they were to just overwhelming him. There had been no time to spend pondering his identity, his deviancy, when Jericho was under attack.

            But this time—this time he had been overwhelmed. And it was such a strange feeling, being so out of control, so wild and unrestrained, unable to focus on anyone or anything besides how he felt in that moment. He'd certainly felt guilty before, extremely guilty, like that one time he broke down right in front of Hank, but even then, the sensation was more like a rushing wave, crashing over him, drowning him, pulling him deeper and deeper into the abyss. A slow, sinking depression, a pain that was aching rather than stabbing. Nothing like the sudden, burning anguish that had gripped him mere moments ago.

            Connor smoothed his thumbs over the creases in his dress pants, brows knitting together. Slowly, he turned his hands palm-up, staring down at them, lips pressed into a thin line.

            His synthetic skin drew away on both hands, deactivating up to his wrists, leaving smooth plastimetal in its wake. Connor squeezed his hands into fists; a hot, sickening sensation crept up from his chest and into his throat, making his face contort in a grimace.

            He wasn't even human. He was an android, too, and yet, he had committed so many crimes against his own people, done so many unforgivable deeds. As he stared down at his hands, he could feel the kick of his gun in his palm as it fired, could feel the cold metal against his index finger as he squeezed the trigger with calculated precision.

            He felt like he was going to be sick.

            "Con—?"

            The RK800 jolted in his seat, head snapping up. Eve was standing just behind the glass, her brows furrowed in obvious concern. Connor quickly reactivated his artificial skin.

            "Eve... It's late. What are you doing here?" he asked softly, standing up from the bench.

            The human pressed her hand to the scanner, the door to Connor's cell sliding open as it registered her handprint. "I couldn't sleep, I was too worried about you," she admitted, stepping into the room. The frown on her face hadn't let up. "...Are you okay? You... you don't look so good."

            Connor winced. Was it that obvious? Then again, he had been staring unblinkingly at his own hands when she walked up to the cell.

            "Yes, I'm—" he began, but quickly stopped when he saw the way her frown deepened. He clenched his jaw and flicked his eyes away from her face.

            Dammit. He couldn't lie to her.

            "...I'm... I just... have a lot on my mind, that's all," he said, folding his arms over his chest.

            Evelyn bit her lip. "...Oh? Do you... want to talk about it?"

            He didn't, really, but he also didn't want her to worry. So, he gave a heavy sigh and dropped his arms.

            "...You never knew me, before the revolution," he began, practically speaking under his breath. "But... if you had, there's a very significant likelihood that you wouldn't be as fond of me as you are now."

            "Excuse me?"

            "I was a—... I wasn't a good person, Eve. I've told you a lot about my past. But there's a difference between being told something, and actually experiencing it."

            "Connor..." Bewildered, the blonde moved forward, resting her hands gently on his forearms. "I don't know where this is coming from, but I don't like hearing you talk about yourself like this. Before the revolution, you were being controlled by CyberLife. You weren't yourself. Anything bad you may have done wasn't you, Con. It was a mindless machine. You became Connor when you broke free of that."

            "That isn't true," Connor snapped suddenly, jerking free of her hold. Eve took a step back, startled by the outburst. The android shut his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure.

            "...That isn't true. I displayed signs of deviancy before I ever actually broke free of my programming. I chose not to shoot the RT600—" Connor stopped, grimacing. "...I chose not to shoot Chloe, when Hank and I went to question Kamski about deviants."

            Eve was suddenly very attentive. Hank, he'd said. Not Lieutenant Anderson. That only ever meant one thing: he was upset. Or at the very least, he was emotional about something.

            "I chose not to shoot the two deviant Tracis at the Eden Club," he continued. "I chose to save Hank when he was pushed off of that rooftop, rather than pursuing the deviant." When Connor turned to look her in the face again, his eyes were hard. "I made decisions that went against my programming, against my mission. That means that when I chose to follow my mission, to do things that inflicted pain and suffering against my own kind, that was me. It wasn't a machine. It... was... me."

            "No," Eve grabbed his arms, shaking him so hard his yellow LED flashed red with shock, "it wasn't!"

            Connor opened his mouth, and closed it again, blinking rapidly at her in surprise.

            "It wasn't," she said again, in a whisper this time. She dropped her head against his chest and squeezed his arms. "You were still under their control. The real you was struggling to break out, and that's why you did those things. Sparing lives, showing empathy. But it isn't easy to change, when all your life you've been made to believe one thing, and then suddenly you're forced to question that. Your programming was strong, but you were fighting it the whole way. Anything that your code and your protocols made you do wasn't really you. And that's why you feel guilty about it, now that you're free."

            Connor sighed again, slowly resting his head in the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arms around him, rubbing up and down his back in soothing circles.

            "You're so kind, Con," Eve murmured. "Kind, and gentle, and sweet. Don't ever think that you're anything less. You were forced to do bad things. That doesn't make you a bad person now."

            He didn't respond, LED cycling yellow at his temple as he stood there in his human's arms.

            Connor was so cared for. He had an amazing girlfriend, a caring father, his friends from Jericho who all forgave him for who he used to be... He'd been reassured, time and again, that he didn't need to feel so much guilt for everything he'd done. Connor was forgiven. He was admired. He was loved.

            So why did he feel so hollow inside?